


Lest faith turn to despair:  Act III - Thanksgiving Day

by If_all_the_world_and_love_were_young



Series: Lest faith turn to despair [4]
Category: Young Americans (TV)
Genre: Boarding School, Criticism, Drama, F/M, Literary References & Allusions, Multi, Poetry, Pop Culture, Rawley Academy, Rebirth/rejuvenation, Sexual Content, Surreal, Teen Romance, True Love, Unofficial Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-11-23
Updated: 2000-11-23
Packaged: 2018-01-18 18:29:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 25
Words: 28,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1438309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/If_all_the_world_and_love_were_young/pseuds/If_all_the_world_and_love_were_young
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em><a href="http://archiveofourown.org/series/89848">Lest faith turn to despair</a></em> is a critical appreciation, in the form of a fanfiction sequel, of Steven Antin’s <em>Young Americans</em> (Columbia TriStar & Mandalay Television for The WB network, 2000), a dramatic essay in philosophy of love.</p>
<p><strong>Synopsis</strong>:  The original drama’s “true love” story affects that drama’s other characters.</p>
<p><em><a href="http://archiveofourown.org/series/89848">Lest faith turn to despair</a></em> is a drama in five acts, plus <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438123/chapters/3025873">prologue</a>, <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438438/chapters/3034030">intermezzo</a>, <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438567/chapters/3035860">envoi</a> and <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1437208">notes</a>.  Each act, like the intermezzo, covers one of six consecutive days around the Thanksgiving following the original drama.  Due to its length, it is posted on <em>Archive of Our Own</em> as a series of six works, with the notes as a separate work.</p>
<p>All sexually active characters are above the legal age of consent in the setting place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Frontispiece

The original drama,  _Young Americans_ , may be viewed online [here](http://www.youtube.com/user/IckyGrub).  Antin’s public comments on it may be read [here](https://sites.google.com/site/rawleyrevisited/antin-on-ya).

 

 

Love is strong as death, passion unyielding as the grave;

the flashes thereof are of fire, a very flame of the Lord.

– _Song of Song_ s 8:6

 

 

To be and to be seen to be thankful;

this is truly not only the greatest of the virtues,

but also the mother of all the rest.

– Cicero, _Pro Plancio_ xxxiii.

 

 

Stranger, dreams are very curious and unaccountable things, and they do not always come true.

There are two gates through which these unsubstantial fancies proceed;

one is of horn, the other of ivory. Those that come through the gate of ivory are fatuous,

but those from the gate of horn mean something.

– Penelope to the disguised Odysseus, _Odyssey_ xix

 

*       *       *


	2. Series Contents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Links to other parts of the drama, _[Lest faith turn to despair](http://archiveofourown.org/series/89848)_ , which, due to its length, is published on _Archive of Our Own_ as a series.

**[Series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/89848) Contents** :

[Notes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1437208): setting; _dramatis personae_ ; genre; allusions; obscenity; chronology.

[Prologue](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438123/chapters/3025873)

[Act I - Tuesday](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438123)

[Act II - Wednesday](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438222)

[Act III - Thanksgiving Day](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438309)

[Intermezzo - Friday](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438438/chapters/3034030)

[Act IV - Saturday](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438438)

[Act V - Sunday](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438567)

[Envoi](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438567/chapters/3035860)

 

Each act of this drama has its own scene-specific table of contents.

 

Photo above is of Bella Banks (Kate Bosworth) and Scout Calhoun (Mark Famiglietti) from episode 1 of _Young Americans_.

 

*       *       *


	3. Contents of Act III - Thanksgiving Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Links to the scenes of Act III of [_Lest faith turn to despair_](http://archiveofourown.org/series/89848). 
> 
> Each below-listed scene of Act III is a chapter of this work.

**Act III - Thanksgiving Day**

     [Scene 1 - Greyhounds in the slips](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438309/chapters/3040612)

     [Scene 2 - Invitations](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438309/chapters/3040669)

     [Scene 3 - Nuts and carrots](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438309/chapters/3040786)

     [Scene 4 - Calendars and cakes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438309/chapters/3040939)

     [Scene 5 - Sugar and spice](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438309/chapters/3041083)

     [Scene 6 - Simple gifts](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438309/chapters/3041185)

     [Scene 7 - Over the river and through the wood](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438309/chapters/3041218)

     [Scene 8 - Amazing Grace](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438309/chapters/3041368)

     [Scene 9 - We gather together](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438309/chapters/3041416)

     [Scene 10 - For the beauty of the earth](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438309/chapters/3041455)

     [Scene 11 - Little women](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438309/chapters/3041524)

     [Scene 12 - Grace is Grace](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438309/chapters/3041641)

     [Scene 13 - Fathers and sons](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438309/chapters/3041665)

     [Scene 14 - _Si vieillesse savoit_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438309/chapters/3041803)

     [Scene 15 - Whist beats blubbering](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438309/chapters/3041848)

     [Scene 16 - Thanksgiving Present](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438309/chapters/3041920)

     [Scene 17 - _Ouvre-moi ta porte_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438309/chapters/3042052)

     [Scene 18 - Ithaca](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438309/chapters/3042115)

     [Scene 19 - True, like ice, like fire](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438309/chapters/3042169)

     [Scene 20 - Hotel work](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438309/chapters/3042331)

     [Scene 21 - It isn’t the Waldorf](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438309/chapters/3042568)

     [Scene 22 - The way you look tonight](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438309/chapters/3042769)

 

Photo above is of Hamilton Fleming (Ian Somerhalder) from episode 7 of _Young Americans_.

 

           *       *       *


	4. Scene 1 - Greyhounds in the slips

INT – RAWLEY BOYS’, SECOND FLOOR DORMITORY CORRIDOR, DAY 3 - THURSDAY (EARLY MORNING)

 

(From outside, the chapel bells play the Westminster Quarters and peal seven hour-strokes. FINN enters the corridor from the main staircase, marches up and down it, knocking on the doors:)

FINN (loudly): “Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more …  
                       In peace there’s nothing so becomes a man  
                       As modest stillness and humility:  
                       But when the blast of war blows in our ears,  
                       Then imitate the action of the tiger;  
                       Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,  
                       Disguise fair nature with hard-favour’d rage …  
                       Dishonour not your mothers; now attest  
                       That those whom you call’d fathers did beget you.  
                       Be copy now to men of grosser blood,  
                       And teach them how to war.”

(As he recites, the doors open one by one, and boys, in boxers or wrapped in towels, limp stiffly into the corridor. WILL, HAMILTON, MARK and SCOUT emerge from SCOUT’s and WILL’s room wrapped in towels, SCOUT and WILL carrying shaving kits. SCOUT shuts the door behind them. Their appearance evokes eye-rolls among some of the other boys.)

FINN: “I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,  
          Straining upon the start. The game’s afoot.”

(Groans from the boys.)

FINN: Same morning shoveling assignments as yesterday, gentlemen. The good news is: the snow should stop falling this morning. Happy Thanksgiving! (He marches on to another section of the dorm.)

WILL (to MARK, as they head toward the showers): “And so our scene must to the battle fly.”

MARK: “Minding true things by what their mockeries be”?

SCOUT: This mockery had a muse of fire, guy. It was jake.

 

*       *       *


	5. Scene 2 - Invitations

INT - GROTTLESEX SCHOOL, JAKE’S AND ANNE’S DORM ROOM – DAY 3, THURSDAY (DAY -MORNING)

(ANNE, in jeans and an open flannel shirt, barefoot, sits at her book-strewn desk, typing on her laptop; a packed backpack lies on her neatly-made bed. JAKE, in underpants and an open bathrobe, stands at the second-floor window, looking out while blowing her hair dry. The snowfall is less heavy now.

JAKE finishes, turns off the dryer, sets it on top of her dresser, next to a framed photograph, a profile of JAKE’s head in her motorcycle helmet. Above the dresser is a bulletin board to which are pegged diverse photos from summer session at Rawley, including a black-and-white photo of the JD crew team holding a regatta trophy. A Fender acoustic guitar gig bag, the brand name visible, stands against her dresser.

Without combing her hair, JAKE sits down at her desk, opens the top drawer, pulls out an already-opened envelope, extracts an already-opened smaller envelope from it, reads the formal note inside:

_Dr. & Mrs. Steven Fleming_   
_request the pleasure of your company_   
_at Thanksgiving Dinner_   
_Thursday, the twenty-third of November_   
_at four o’clock_   
_at the Rawley Academy Dean’s Residence_   
_Seventeen Elm Street, New Rawley_

Enclosed on a separate card is a handwritten note:

_Jake – A surprise for Hamilton. Please don’t tell him._   
_And please stay the weekend._   
_RSVP to flemingka@rawley.edu. – Kate._

JAKE looks at the two envelopes. The outer, postmarked November 13th, is addressed to “J. Pratt, Grottlesex School Box 358, Grottlesex, MA,” the inner to “Mr. Jake Pratt.” JAKE sighs.)

ANNE (amused): Any ink move since the last time you read those?

(JAKE shoots ANNE an unappreciative sidelong glance, rises, opens her closet door, on the inner side of which is a full-length mirror. She takes out and tosses onto her unmade bed both a garment bag with a small combination-lock padlock and a small combination-lock suitcase, unlocks the latter. She pulls out a breast-binder, closes the case, puts it back into her closet, removes and hangs her robe, takes down the two Grottlesex-crest towels hanging on pegs on the back of the door, drapes one over her shoulders, throws the other on the floor in front of the mirror, spreads it out with her feet, takes scissors out of her dresser, stands in front of the mirror, begins to cut her hair.

ANNE closes her laptop, stands, goes to her dresser, over which hangs a poster of Muir Woods, and atop which an empty bottle of Stag’s Leap Cask 23 serves as a vase for dried flowers and pussy willow. She picks up a comb, sticks it into her shirt pocket, walks to JAKE, stands behind her.)

ANNE (softly, brushing JAKE’s hair back with one hand, gently taking JAKE’s scissors-holding hand with the other): May I?

(JAKE turns her head, looks back at ANNE, lets her take the scissors, keeps hold of ANNE’s hand for a moment, releases it. ANNE gently turns JAKE’s head to face forward, removes the comb from her pocket. Both girls slowly start to grin at each other in the mirror.

Three-inch strands of dark brown hair drop onto the towel around their bare feet.)

 

*       *       *

 

 


	6. Scene 3 - Nuts and carrots

INT – FLEMINGS’ HOUSE, FAMILY DINING ROOM – DAY 3, THURSDAY (DAY - MORNING)

 

(Snow falls lightly on the deeply buried back yard. Bach’s “ _[Nun Danket](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dpAPD9w20-c)_ “ (BWV 657) plays. HAMILTON and the DEAN sit on opposite sides of the square table, a cutting board in front of each. Plates of unchopped carrots, celery, onions, garlic, apples, dates and walnuts litter table and sideboard. Half a dozen empty plates lie stacked. Another plate bears a pile of walnuts that the DEAN has nearly finished chopping. Yet another bears a peeler and peelings from the carrots that HAMILTON is chopping.)

HAMILTON: Dad, aren’t there machines that chop food now? And don’t we own one?

DEAN: Yes, to both questions. But this is your mother’s way of helping us men feel less useless. It’s tradition. Beats breaking ice and chopping wood.

HAMILTON: Or shoveling.

DEAN: Feel more grateful for snowblowers and plows now?

HAMILTON: Yeh, and for food choppers. Not to mention plumbing and central heating. I get it.

DEAN (smiling): Good. But there is something useful you could do for me that a machine can’t.

HAMILTON: What’s that?

DEAN: Think about a choice. An alumnus, who prefers to remain anonymous, wants to endow a scholarship. He’s asked me to suggest what kind might serve best. Ponder that for a day or two, and let me know what you come up with, please?

HAMILTON: Happy to.

DEAN (casually, avoiding eye contact): Feel free to sound out any of your friends, if you like.

HAMILTON: Uh, sure. … Anyone in particular?

DEAN (shrugging): Anyone you think worth talking to about it.

HAMILTON: About how best to give away money? Scout, obviously.

DEAN: I suppose he’d do as well as any. … Well, that’s it for the nuts. On to the apples.

 

*       *       *


	7. Scene 4 - Calendars and cakes

INT – RAWLEY BOYS’, COMMON ROOM – DAY 3, THURSDAY (DAY - MID-DAY)

 

(A low fire burns on the hearth. Through the window, sunlight gleams off sparkling virgin snow. Three long folding tables are set up, covered with white cloths. Two are laden with about 80 plastic-wrapped baked goods: sweetbreads, fruit cakes, pies, fudge, cheesecakes. On the third are stacks of about 80 enveloped wall calendars, a stack of about 70 of the file cards that Sean McGrail brought the day before, and a clipboard with a list assigning students to hosts.

FINN, in tweed jacket and tie, sits behind the last table, near the clipboard, reading a book. Three BOYS, two wearing school blazers, one a sweater and tie, stand in front of the same table. WILL enters, in a brown corduroy jacket and tie, bringing FINN a mug of coffee and a napkin, carrying a book; after setting the mug and napkin down on FINN’s table, he settles into an armchair not far behind FINN and reads. FINN sets the open book on the table, gives each of the three boys a file card, checks three names off the list. The boys take their calendars and move to choose a dessert.)

FINN (turning toward WILL): Thanks, Will.

WILL: Don’t mention it. How’s it going?

FINN: About a hundred done, sixty or seventy to go.

BOYS (leaving, with cards, calendars and desserts): Happy Thanksgiving, Finn!

FINN: Same to you, gentlemen. … (To WILL:) So when are we due at your folks’?

WILL: Anytime between two-thirty and three. Mom hopes to serve dinner at three-thirty.

FINN: That’ll work. You’ve told your mom that you and I have to leave early?

WILL: Yes. And that I’d be able to tell her why this weekend, and that the story will beat anything she’s heard in a month of Sundays. Given that sweetener, she took it pretty well.

FINN: Good. I’ll take some wine. Why don’t you choose a dessert, too? We’ve got plenty. And take a look at one of these calendars.

WILL (putting down his book, standing and going to the food table): Can’t go wrong with this fudge. … (He grabs some fudge, takes a calendar out of an envelope, flips through it.) Well, Hamilton’s done us proud.

FINN: Not embarrassed to find yourself in it?

WILL: No. The town scholarship kid should be in it. And we kids throwing snowballs are just in the background, anyhow. The focus is on our shovel handles sticking out of the snowbank. On my shovel handle and nameplate in particular … like my gravestone in a cemetery.

FINN: “Speaks like silence,” doesn’t it? So take a calendar, too.

WILL: Yeh. (He takes the fudge and the calendar back to his chair, settles into it, sets them down next to it, picks up his book, re-opens it.)

(BRANDON and MARK, both in Rawley blazers, MARK also in a sweater-vest, walk in from the corridor.)

BRANDON (to MARK): I’m glad Liz is happy. Stewart and I were worried.

MARK: Maybe you’ll luck out, too. … Hi, Finn, Will. Happy Thanksgiving!

FINN: Likewise, gentlemen. … (He shuffles through the file cards. Handing a card to BRANDON:) Your destination, Mr. Bradshaw.

BRANDON (reading): “Langtree.” … Whatever.

(From behind BRANDON, MARK grins at FINN.)

BRANDON: What about you, Harry?

FINN: Harry will be dining with a faculty member, Brandon. Please take a dessert and a calendar with you. You too, Harry – the calendar, in particular, might be appreciated, I think.

(MARK and BRANDON comply while FINN crosses BRANDON’s name off his list.)

MARK (picking up a calendar): Thanks, Finn. You’re right, it will be.

BRANDON (leaving, with MARK): Finn, Will, see ya.

WILL: See ya, guys. … (To FINN, grinning:) Fun, isn’t it? Almost like being a kid again?

FINN (smiling): A little. … So what’s the book? Doesn’t look like schoolwork.

WILL: We’re on break, Finn. … But it is schoolwork, in a way. Incomplete lit course work from summer session, when you asked us why Thoreau went to Walden Pond – and compared that to why we’re here at Rawley.

FINN: You’re re-reading _Walden_?

WILL: No, it’s the book Thoreau went to Walden Pond to write. The one he wrote while he was there. He wrote _Walden_ years later, as I’m sure you know.

FINN: Ah, _Concord and Merrimack_ … Any part of it you particularly like?

WILL (turning to a bookmarked page): Yeh. … “Friendship is evanescent in every man’s experience, and remembered like heat lightning in past summers. Fair and flitting like a summer cloud. … The heart is forever inexperienced. …”

(SCOUT enters, not from the corridor, but from the door to the library, behind FINN and WILL, who do not see him. SCOUT wears a Rawley blazer, tie, crimson sweater-vest, neatly pressed grey wool trousers, and tassel loafers with plaid socks. The corner-points of an impeccably folded handkerchief protrude from his blazer pocket. Seeing FINN and WILL talking, he stands quietly in the doorway, listening.)

WILL (continuing): “But sometimes we are said to _love_ another, that is, to stand in a true relation to him, so that we give the best to, and receive the best from, him. … [Then] our lives are divine and miraculous, and answer to our ideal … transcend our earthly life, and anticipate Heaven for us.”

FINN: “Heaven is under our feet, as well as over our heads.”

WILL: Thoreau went to Walden Pond to relive a summer of his youth, didn’t he? His last summer as a Harvard student, spent living in a cabin by a Flint’s Pond, near Concord, with his roommate at Harvard, said to have been “a man he almost worshipped.” A guy who died at age twenty-six, the year before Thoreau started to build his cabin at Walden Pond.

FINN: Charles Stearns Wheeler.

WILL: Yes. After Wheeler died, Thoreau wanted to build a cabin at Flint’s Pond, but he couldn’t get permission. So instead he built one at Walden Pond, a mile away. He often walked from there to Flint’s Pond, as he says in chapter nine of _Walden_.

FINN: And his brother, about whom he writes all through _Concord and Merrimack_ , had died the year before Wheeler. Thoreau and his brother had been close, too.

WILL: Yeh, so close that they both proposed to and were rejected by the same girl. … So Thoreau went to the woods because he already felt alone, and needed to be alone in order to deal with that. The “essential facts of life” that he went to front were our loneliness and mortality – that we’re born and die alone, that even love can’t change that, weren’t they?

FINN: Yes. … And sadly, it can’t. … No matter how hard we try to merge, at the end, what’s in the bed is still two bodies, not one. … Sometimes it’s so damned sad that each of you sees that the other needs help dealing with it. That, strangely, can be the best part of it all.

WILL: “The eternal note of sadness” – the one Sophocles, long ago, heard on the Aegean? That the world “hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain”?

FINN (sipping his coffee): So you’ve noticed that Arnold’s poem about coping with loss of conventional faith is a post-coital meditation?

WILL: “Come to the window, sweet is the night air”? Sort of hard to miss. … Written on Arnold’s honeymoon, too. Maybe all prep school deans’ sons are alike.

FINN (choking, snorting coffee out through his nose): Krudski! … That’s wicked. … I should make you pay to clean this tie.

(SCOUT, apparently ignorant of Arnold’s biography, fails to get the joke, and remains unnoticed.)

WILL (handing FINN the napkin): And I should charge for zingers good enough to make it need cleaning.

FINN (wiping his shirt and tie): Alright, fair enough.

WILL: Finn, I think Thoreau, at Walden Pond, was trying to relive that summer of his youth better than he’d lived it the first time. By trying to sublimate his feelings, to love and feel loved by Nature, even though it makes us separate and mortal.

FINN: And he felt that he succeeded. Years later, he wrote in his journal, “All nature is my bride.”

WILL: So _Walden_ ’s a love story – once you understand how to read it.

FINN: Maybe all stories are, if we read them truly. … (He nods toward the school crest over the hearth.) … If we give our best to them, and receive their best from them. … This, for example … (He taps the book on the table.) … is a poem that tries to tell the story of this country. … (Picking up the book, opening it:) Here’s the part of it for today:

           And then, no man knows why,  
           there came the savages, smiling, bringing corn.

           Corngivers, why do you give  
           That these men live?  
           They think that you are devils of the wood  
           And you have fought them once and will again,  
           Yet, in their last extremity, you come  
           As if in answer to some forest drum  
           To bring the bounty never understood,  
           To bring the food that saves the starving men. …

SCOUT (interrupting, continuing from memory):

           This is your own destruction that you bear  
           In venison and corn  
           And the red Autumn leaf  
           That falls before the snow,  
           This is the doom of werowance and chief.  
           This is the breaking of the hazel-bow.

           And yet, before it happens, and the great  
           Passionate drum of wrong begins to sound,  
           Ere the dead lie upon the bloody ground  
           And the chief’s sons lie drunken in the street,  
           Let us remember how this happened, too,  
           And how the food was given, not in hate,  
           Liking or dazzled wonder, but, it seems,  
           As if compelled by something past all plans …

FINN (impressed, standing to greet SCOUT): Good afternoon, Mr. Calhoun.

SCOUT: Good afternoon, Finn.

WILL (also rising): Hi, Scout. How long have you been standing there?

SCOUT: Long enough to know … why Finn was reading that to you, Will. He’s right. It is a love story. Show him the title, Finn.

(FINN closes the book, hands it to WILL.)

WILL (reading the title, puzzled:) _Western Star_ … [I’ve seen this book on your desk](https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-Ex47z4C6Tdk/U1H04DVAs0I/AAAAAAAAAa0/IR6jEuLNVUw/w337-h253-no/Western+Star%252C+YA3.jpg). … (His face brightening:) Oh, Venus. … (Clouding again:) History as love story?

SCOUT: Yes, despite the “great passionate drum of wrong.” My grand-dad reads that to us every Thanksgiving. To remind us that trying to muffle that drum is how we Calhouns try to justify what we have – not that we can.

WILL (softly, walking toward his roommate): Scout, none of us can.

FINN: But we can help each other try. So the book’s yours, Will. Happy Thanksgiving.

SCOUT (taking the book from WILL, opening it): First edition, 1943. (He hands the book back to WILL and flashes FINN a terse, piercing smile.)

WILL (moved): Thanks, Finn. … I …

SCOUT (to WILL, smiling): Don’t mind me. (He walks to the front of the table, peruses the baked goods, his back to FINN and WILL.)

(WILL, looking at SCOUT, hugs FINN.)

SCOUT (after a pause, still perusing the baked goods): So which corn-giver are you sending me to, Finn?

FINN (disengaging, sitting back down): Let’s see. … Here’s your destination.

(SCOUT turns to face FINN, who hands SCOUT a file card.)

FINN: Please take a calendar and a dessert. (He checks SCOUT’s name off his list.)

SCOUT (reading the card): Oh no. … Finn, this is the one family in town that I should not go to. Can you switch me?

FINN: No, Mr. Calhoun. That family requested you specifically. That’s written at the bottom of the card, isn’t it?

SCOUT: Oh yeh … but … Will, I’ve been invited by the Banks’.

WILL: So go. Think about it on the way there, maybe you’ll understand why.

SCOUT: You knew?

WILL: Bella told me yesterday. Wish them a happy Thanksgiving for me, please, and get out of here.

(SCOUT starts to leave, walking backward, still staring at the file card.)

FINN: Mr. Calhoun. Your calendar? Your dessert?

SCOUT: Oh … sorry. … (He takes a calendar, ogles the desserts, recovers his poise.) … So, Finn, I hear you’re going to the Krudskis’.

FINN: Yes, I knew Will’s parents when we were kids. Haven’t seen much of them for a while. Could be fun.

SCOUT (choosing a cheesecake, to WILL): My condolences, _coloc_. Looks like you’re in for an evening of The Good Old Days.

WILL (settling back into his chair): You know, that might not be so bad.

SCOUT: Well, Happy Thanksgiving, guys.

FINN: Likewise, Mr. Calhoun.

WILL: Happy Thanksgiving, Scout.

(SCOUT goes out by the main corridor, carrying cheesecake and calendar.)

FINN: More secrets, Mr. Krudski?

(Two more boys, dressed in school blazers, enter.)

WILL: Yeh … but this one, neither you nor the Dean need know.

  
*       *       * 


	8. Scene 5 - Sugar and spice

EXT - CHARLIE’S GAS STATION, NEW RAWLEY – DAY 3, THURSDAY (DAY - AFTERNOON)

 

(Nothing moves on Main Street. The shops are all closed. Sunlight sparkles off high snowbanks around the cleared pavement of the station. An inch or two of snow still covers the street – on Thanksgiving Day, municipal services are minimal.

JAKE Pratt, in her white down parka, snow-pants, boots and helmet, pulls into the gas station on her white snowmobile, ANNE riding in similar but blue gear on the seat behind her, the snowmobiler’s pack on her back. JAKE’s red backpack and a snowmobile helmet bag are both strapped atop the rear compartment. JAKE parks the sled under the 1920’s-style canopy, near the 1940's-vintage gas pumps and air pump. First ANNE and then JAKE climb off the bike, remove their helmets, set them on their seats. Hair cut short, no jewelry or lipstick, JAKE can pass for a boy.

JAKE helps ANNE out of the backpack, sets it down next to the sled, then admires the new gas globes while brushing off her snow-encrusted outerwear. ANNE grabs a snow-brush-and-scraper resting against a gas pump, attacks the snow covering JAKE, quickly removing most of it.)

ANNE (finishing): Go inside. I’ll phone Mr. Jenkins.

(ANNE moves moves to the front of the service bay, starts to work removing her own snow-coating.

JAKE smiles at ANNE, walks to the office. It’s empty. A hand-lettered sign hung on the door reads: “EMERGENCY SERVICE ONLY, THANKSGIVING DAY, 2 PM TO 7 PM.” JAKE tries the door, finds it unlocked, goes inside.)

 

 

INT - CHARLIE’S GAS STATION, NEW RAWLEY – DAY 3, THURSDAY (AFTERNOON)

 

(JAKE removes her gloves, takes out her mobile phone, punches a button, waits a moment.)

JAKE: Bella? … I’m here. Downstairs. Got a minute?

(The answer is brief. JAKE closes and pockets her phone. Footsteps patter quickly down the stairs. BELLA, wearing an apron, rushes in, hugs JAKE.)

BELLA: God, Jacqueline, it’s good to see you. … (Fingering JAKE’s hair:) So you went through with it.

JAKE: Beats telling Hamilton’s parents in front of their dinner guests.

BELLA: Getting here – how bad was it?

JAKE: Nothing we couldn’t handle.

BELLA: Get real.

JAKE: Used the shovel a lot, the winch twice, the jack once. Thanks for suggesting I get them.

BELLA: Every preppy fairy tale princess should have one practical friend. … Why didn’t you just use the back roads? They’re empty, nobody cares.

JAKE: We did, most of the way. The problem was snowbanks, like, crossing plowed roads. Cross-country skiers and cops helped us over a couple of them. And a snow plow blasted through one of them for us.

BELLA: And the rest of the way?

JAKE (sheepishly): When we got close to New Rawley … I wanted to use the trail. Sledding over asphalt, even deeply covered asphalt, just …

BELLA: Isn’t as romantic as winches and jacks?

JAKE: Something like that.

BELLA: So where’s the sled?

JAKE: Under the canopy. Have time for a spin?

BELLA (walking to the window, peering out): Beautiful. I’d love to. But I can’t now, we’re fixing dinner. This weekend?

JAKE: For sure.

BELLA: Need gas?

JAKE: Not yet – twelve-gallon tank. And I know you’re busy. I just wanted to see you. And to warn you that … I might have to ask to stay here tonight.

BELLA: Relax, parental relief trumps professional embarrassment. But if you do need a place to stay, you’re more than welcome here.

JAKE: Thanks, Bella. If it does go badly, Hamilton’ll be kept home, obviously, and I’d rather cry on your shoulder than ruin the evening for Anne and Mark.

BELLA: My shoulder is always yours. You know that. … Where is Anne, anyhow? Did you already drop her off at the Inn?

JAKE: No, she’s outside.

BELLA: God … (She smiles, shakes her head, opens the door, spots ANNE, goes outside.)

(JAKE remains inside, looking around the office. A moment later, BELLA returns, pulling ANNE inside the office by one of ANNE’s now ungloved hands.)

BELLA: That’s better. … (Hugging ANNE, then pulling in JAKE:) We don’t do this often enough.

JAKE: Girl, you have no idea how many afternoons Anne and I’ve wanted to bike down here to see you.

ANNE: But at least we had Veterans’ Day, and the Saturday when Finn took our guys off to watch the Head of the Charles.

JAKE: And from now on Anne and I’ll both be here some weekends – if Hamilton and Mark don’t get suspended.

BELLA (disengaging): They won’t. But no way am I horning in on your once-a-month weekends together with them.

JAKE: Then we’ll pull you into them, with Will.

ANNE: For starters, if all goes well tonight, Mark and I are taking you and Will to dinner tomorrow, while Jackie spends some time with Ham and his parents.

JAKE: And Hamilton and I will see you and Will before I go back to Grottlesex. Count on it.

BELLA (walking to the 1930’s-vintage Coke dispenser in the corner): We’ll see. … Want a Coke? They’re on the house.

JAKE: Thanks, we’re parched. But don’t even think of changing the subject.

BELLA (lifting three glass bottles of Coke out of the top-opening dispenser): Really? Nice weather we’re having.

JAKE: Lotsa laughs. Try again.

BELLA (opening the Cokes on the built-in bottle opener on the side of the dispenser): Your birthday present to Will was sweet. I only heard about it after he finished the novels he hadn’t already read. Thank you.

ANNE: What’d Jackie get him?

BELLA: The complete works of my favorite novelist – Austen.

JAKE: A guy only turns legal once. Even if I’m three weeks late, Hamilton and I’d be happy to help you celebrate.

BELLA (handing Cokes to JAKE and ANNE): Look, Will and I don’t date, much less double date.

JAKE: That has to change, ya know? What do you two do while you’re … marking time?

BELLA (half-sitting on the desk): I visit Will at the diner during slow shifts. He comes by here, helps Grace with homework, talks with dad and me. … Jacqueline, it’s so clear that we try not to be alone together, and when we talk, we mostly talk around it, not about it. Except …

(JAKE’s eyes urge BELLA to continue.)

BELLA: … he gives me books, and writes me poems.

JAKE: Pressure?

BELLA: No – patient, supportive readiness.

JAKE: Sounds perfect.

BELLA: Sort of too good to be true.

JAKE: Alright, I’ll get off your case – for now. … So what’s cooking for Thanksgiving at the Banks’?

BELLA (relaxing): Well, the town high school PTA bestirred itself to invite all the Rawley kids to dinner with town families. We’re hosting Scout Calhoun.

JAKE: That’s great. Same thing’s happening in Grottlesex, but this is the first I’ve heard about it here. Hamilton really sucks as a news source.

BELLA: You want a Swiss vault, or you want newsy? Can’t have both.

JAKE (smiling): Yeh, you’re right. … But why Scout? Why not Will?

BELLA: Scout’s family – we think – and Dad wants to tell Grace that at dinner.

JAKE (wincing): Hard for your dad.

BELLA: Yeh.

JAKE: But great for Grace. Any girl not in love with Scout would be thrilled to have him as family – even maybe family.

BELLA: And Will’s dad, surprisingly, seems to have asked Will home for Thanksgiving dinner.

JAKE: Thank God! Their relationship sounded so … cruddy – like each thought of the other as a part of himself he wished were dead.

BELLA: Yeh …

ANNE: Tell your dad I'm in town, please, at the Inn? And that I'll see him tomorrow?

BELLA: Of course.  But as I said yesterday, you don't have to cancel having Thanksgiving dinner with us just because Mark's here, too.  Bring him.  We've got plenty of food.

ANNE: Thanks, really - but we’ll dine at the Inn.

BELLA: Just the two of you? At a restaurant? That’s so not happening. Eat with us. Just take a walk with Mark for half an hour after dinner while dad and I tell Grace about Scout. Then come back and we’ll all have dessert together.

ANNE: Bella, it’s not just the two of us. Mark and I’ll be hosting a half-retired, widowed teacher at Rawley who can’t be with his kids and grandkids. Mark managed to steal him from the Flemings. I’m really looking forward to it. Hamilton thinks the world of the guy.

JAKE: Yeh … Dr. Hotchkiss has kinda half raised Hamilton.

BELLA: Hotchkiss? The Latin teacher? Will’s nuts about him, too. Says he used to teach math and physics, too – a real Renaissance man.

JAKE: He's Hamilton's godfather, Bella. 

BELLA (to ANNE): Then why are you taking him away from Thanksgiving with the Flemings?

ANNE: To tell him about Ham and Jackie. Hamilton’s too modest to do it right, Jackie doesn’t need more embarrassment, and this way, Dr. Hotchkiss can be there for Ham if Ham needs help with his parents tonight. We can’t take the burden of telling his parents off him, but we can do this.

(BELLA looks questioningly at JAKE.)

JAKE: It’s cool. Hamilton wouldn’t let them do it if they asked, but he’ll be grateful that they did.

BELLA (to ANNE): Then so am I. … But how did Mark pull this off?  Get Dr. Hotchkiss to accept, and get Ham’s parents to agree to give him up?

ANNE: He did it before the Edmund PTA came through with their offer, when anything that freed up another place for a student at the Flemings’ table was welcome. He didn’t mention me to Ham’s mom, but he got Dr. Hotchkiss to accept by promising him dinner with his girlfriend. Since he’s seen how close Ham and Mark are …

BELLA: Got it. Enjoy your Thanksgiving dinner.

ANNE: Thanks, I expect to.

BELLA (standing): And you can tell Mark that we’re on for dinner tomorrow, if Will’s free.

ANNE: Great! I’m looking forward it.

JAKE: And I’m looking forward to wearing a skirt in this town. … (To BELLA:) We’ll let you get back to fixing dinner. I hope you won’t see me tonight. But I’ll call you.

(JAKE and ANNE finish their Cokes, then hug BELLA.)

BELLA: Good luck! And Happy Thanksgiving!

JAKE: Thanks. You too.

ANNE: Happy Thanksgiving, Bella.

(ANNE and JAKE go out toward the sled.)

 

*       *       *


	9. Scene 6 - Simple gifts

INT – FLEMINGS’ HOUSE, PARLOR – DAY 3, THURSDAY (DAY - LATE AFTERNOON)

 

(Through the windows, the light of the setting sun reflects off new-fallen snow outside. A low fire burns in the hearth. Atop the long table along the inner wall lie three trays: one bearing a punchbowl full of mulled apple cider and a ladle, a second bearing pewter Rawley-crest mugs, and third bearing a bowl of walnuts, almonds and hazelnuts, with a plate for shells and a couple of nutcrackers and nutmeat-picks.

The DEAN, HAMILTON, and ten other students, six boys and four girls, stand in the parlor, talking, drinking cider, and cracking nuts. LENA and RYDER are among them. The DEAN, HAMILTON and RYDER wear tweed sport jackets, the DEAN with an open collar, HAMILTON with a turtle-neck; the other boys wear school blazers; the girls wear dresses or skirts and sweaters. Copland’s arrangement of “[Simple Gifts](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j-ehYbIQ0G8&feature=BFa&list=PLF2C2477C02549EC9)“ from his _Appalachian Spring_ wafts softly from room-corner speakers connected to the CD player in the library.)

DEAN: Yes, but the tune is a century older than Copland. It’s a Shaker dance tune.

LENA: The Shakers danced? I thought they were all celibate.

(The doorbells rings. HAMILTON excuses himself to answer it. LENA holds his mug for him.)

DEAN: They were. But dance was part of their worship. That’s why they were called Shakers.

RYDER (amused): Celibate? A whole sect, all of them?

(In the background, ALICE and WENDY enter the vestibule. HAMILTON greets them with hugs, then helps them out of their coats.)

DEAN (setting down his mug, starting to ladle cider into two new ones): Yes. Communists, too. They had half a dozen communes in New England alone.

FIRST STUDENT: Did they think a sect of celibates could last?

DEAN: They seem to have hoped it wouldn’t need to last. They didn’t call themselves Shakers. They called themselves The Believers in Christ’s Second Appearing.

SECOND STUDENT: That’s bizarre.

LENA: Or maybe just impatient. But it’s old. Read Paul’s first epistle to the Corinthians. In chapter seven he says he wishes everybody were celibate, like him. Apparently he expected the world to end so soon that there was no point having children.

(HAMILTON re-enters the parlor with ALICE and WENDY on his arms.)

RYDER: You hoping to convert us, Dean?

DEAN: Not to that. … (Nodding toward HAMILTON:) Here comes the best evidence of my view of celibacy. … Alice, Wendy, glad you could join us.

ALICE: Thank you, Dean Fleming. Happy Thanksgiving.

DEAN: Some mulled cider?

WENDY: Yes, please.

(ALICE nods. The DEAN hands the two newly ladled mugs to ALICE and WENDY, picks his own back up. RYDER takes WENDY from HAMILTON, who surrenders her with a warning glare at RYDER. LENA returns HAMILTON’s mug to him.)

RYDER (to WENDY): The Dean’s had us discussing the Shakers. … Only slightly less impatient than the rest of you colonials, weren’t they, Lena?

LENA: How so?

RYDER: What are you all doing today, if not trying to revive a Utopian fantasy of a New Jerusalem? … (Melodramatically:) “For we must consider that we shall be as a city upon a hill. The eyes of all people are upon us.”

ALICE (drinking): Revive? You’re sure it’s dead?

RYDER: Quite. Look about. Theatres open, Christmas celebrated - and so few witches dangling from oaks.

WENDY (also drinking): Life is growth, Forrest. What’s sad is that some people can’t tell it from death.

(KATE appears in the hallway, catches the DEAN’s eye, fiddles a wall switch near the door from the parlor to the hallway. The music stops.)

DEAN: Well, the dead don’t eat. Whereas we, it seems, are summoned. … (Nodding toward KATE:) Shall we move to the dining room? Bring your cider.

(The students greet KATE, then follow her and the DEAN across the hall into the formal dining room.)

 

*       *       * 


	10. Scene 7 - Over the river and through the wood

INT – FLEMINGS’ HOUSE, FORMAL DINING ROOM – DAY 3, THURSDAY (DAY - LATE AFTERNOON)

 

(A low fire burns in the hearth. The table, covered simply in white, is fully and formally set for sixteen, its maximum capacity, with the traditional New England Thanksgiving dinner. By each plate, beside a large, full water glass, is a small glass of white wine. Atop the sideboard at the window side of the room are a cornucopia disgorging apples, peaches, pears, squashes and small pumpkins, two pitchers of water, a large roast turkey with carving knife and fork, and a serving platter and fork.

KATE moves to the end of the table nearer the kitchen, the DEAN to the end nearer the front porch.)

DEAN (setting his mug down at his place): Lena, would you please sit here at my right? And Hamilton, would you take the middle place on the window side, near the sideboard? The carving’s yours this year, son.

(These honors surprise all but KATE. HAMILTON’s eyes meet his father’s with a mix of gratitude, remorse and unease. Several students exchange glances that question the Dean's judgment.)

KATE: Everyone else, please take any place you like, save for the middle one across from Hamilton.

(The five girls other than LENA arrange themselves behind non-adjacent chairs, three on the window side of the table, ALICE to HAMILTON’s right and WENDY to his left, and two in the second and sixth of the seven seats on opposite side. The six boys then move to stand behind the remaining places, including the two flanking the vacant seat opposite HAMILTON; RYDER takes the place to KATE’s right. The DEAN then holds LENA’s chair; the boys follow suit, RYDER holding KATE’s chair. After KATE and he girls are seated, the DEAN and the boys take their seats.)

DEAN: Hamilton, would you please tell us what you’re thankful for this year?

HAMILTON (faltering, not prepared for this): Uh … sure. … For … uh … the opportunity … to be useful …

(The roar of a snowmobile pulling into the driveway, and the distraction of the students opposite him, who can see it, give HAMILTON an excuse to pause.)

DEAN (turning to look out the window, as the snowmobile engine is turned off): It seems our last guest has arrived.

(Outside, the chapel bell carillon begins to play the full Westminster Quarters.)

DEAN (standing): Please continue, Hamilton.  (He walks to the front vestibule.)

HAMILTON (still faltering): … and, uh … to be needed … and cared for by … people … and …

(The DEAN opens the front door, raises a finger to his lips. As the carillon begins to toll four hour-strokes, JAKE enters, all in white, helmet cradled in one arm, snowmobile helmet bag in her other hand, red backpack slung over a shoulder. Seeing that grace is being said, she stands quietly in the vestibule, looking through the doorway into the dining room – at HAMILTON.)

HAMILTON (staring at JAKE): … for everything. For life. All of it.

DEAN: Amen. … Nice sled, Mr. Pratt. Glad you could join us. … Hamilton, would you please set to carving that turkey?

(HAMILTON slowly rises, goes to the sideboard, begins carving. The DEAN takes JAKE’s backpack, sets it down, helps JAKE out of her parka and scarf, hangs them while she takes off her boots. She’s in drag: baggy sweater, man’s white dress shirt, tie, loafers. The other students, as surprised as HAMILTON, exchange uncomfortable glances – save for RYDER, who eyes KATE with amusement.)

KATE (unfolding her napkin): Well, let’s start passing things around, shall we?

(The students unfold their napkins and comply silently – save for RYDER.)

RYDER (mirthfully): Fenberries, Mrs. Fleming?

KATE: Thank you. But they’re “cranberries” here, Ryder. …

DEAN (to JAKE, handing her back the backpack): The front guestroom’s the place for the snow-pants and bags. Upstairs, above the parlor. Then come back down and join us.

JAKE: Thanks.

(JAKE runs upstairs, carrying her backpack and helmet bag. The DEAN briefly watches her go, then fiddles with the music wall control. From speakers inset into corners of the dining room, [Bach cello suites](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DwHpDOWhkGk&list=PL625197213B558580) begin to play softly. As the DEAN returns to his seat, LENA offers him a dish.)

DEAN: Ah, sweet potatoes. Thank you, Lena.

LENA (softly and deliberately, looking the DEAN in the eye): Dr. Fleming, this dish is very hot, like fire. Please handle it carefully, gently.

DEAN (smiling warmly): I know. I will, I promise you. And I do, truly, appreciate your concern. … (Taking the dish:) If I play with it a bit before I eat it, I’ll see that you understand why before the night’s out.

(LENA, puzzled by the DEAN’s words but disarmed by his tone and smile, releases the dish.)

DEAN (blathering, ostensibly to LENA, but a bit too loudly, as he serves LENA and himself): You know, sweet potatoes don’t grow north of the Mason-Dixon line. How they got onto our Thanksgiving menu, I can’t imagine. But I’m glad they did. … (Passing the sweet potatoes on leftward:) What’s next? Ah, green beans. My mother swore I’d come to love them, but I’m still waiting for that to happen. … (Serving the beans:) Still, they are good for us, and Kate manages to mask their natural taste quite nicely. … (Passing the beans onward:) And now? Ah, sweet corn. From the local crop, which was particularly good this year. Freezers are wondrous things, aren’t they? …

(JAKE, now in rumpled blazer and gray woolen slacks, enters the dining room, walks to the vacant place at the table, opposite HAMILTON. The DEAN stops his rambling.)

JAKE: Hi. Thanks for having me, Dean Fleming, Mrs. Fleming. Happy Thanksgiving, everybody.

(From the students, a chorus of “Happy Thanksgiving” – distinctly tepid from most, but warm from LENA, awed from ALICE and WENDY, amused from RYDER.)

HAMILTON (turning around, holding the serving platter full of turkey, and trying, lamely, to flash JAKE a casual guy-to-guy smile): Happy Thanksgiving.

KATE: Happy Thanksgiving, Jake. It’s good to have you with us. Please sit down. Some introductions are in order, but we’ll wait until the food’s been served, if you don’t mind.

(JAKE seats herself, exchanging uncomfortable half-smiles with the two boys at either side of her, and joins in the plate-loading. HAMILTON, carrying the serving platter, begins to offer turkey to the guests, standing to the left of WENDY, who puts some turkey first onto HAMILTON’s plate, then onto her own. He avoids looking at either of his parents, or at JAKE.)

RYDER (to KATE, _sotto voce_ ): Nicely done. The Dean and you have a sense of humor, I’ll give you that.

(KATE eyes RYDER coldly.)

DEAN (jovially, while passing on yet another dish): So, Jake, how does one get here from Grottlesex by sled? “Over the river and through the woods“?

(JAKE and HAMILTON exchange uneasy glances as HAMILTON offers turkey to the boy seated to WENDY's left.)

JAKE: Uh, yes, sir. Several rivers, actually.

DEAN: Well, I’m sure that sled does indeed spring over the ground like a hunting hound. I hope the lines about the wind stinging the toes and biting the nose weren’t equally applicable.

KATE: Steven, I fear you may be losing our British guests.

DEAN: Oh dear, where are my manners? Alice, have I lost you?

ALICE (after exchanging shrugs with WENDY and RYDER): I’m afraid we’re clueless, Dr. Fleming.

DEAN (taking some turkey from HAMILTON): My apologies. I’m citing an old Thanksgiving song – "[Over the River and through the Wood](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Over_the_River_and_through_the_Woods)." Would you explain what it’s about, please, Jake?

JAKE (to ALICE, after casting a quick, forlorn glance at HAMILTON): It’s about children travelling by sleigh through a snowstorm to eat Thanksgiving dinner with their grandparents.

DEAN: Indeed, thank you. That song was written back in the 1840s. But we Yanks are all taught it in primary school, Alice. It still is taught, isn’t it, Lena?

LENA: I was taught it.

FIRST STUDENT: Even in a town where snow never falls?

LENA: The same town that brought you _White Christmas_. Songs about snow are kinda magical in L.A. And I’m really enjoying … (Waving a hand toward the window:) this.

DEAN: I’m glad. Are there any Americans here who don’t know that song?

(Silence.)

DEAN: So Hamilton, to what might we attribute its remarkable longevity?

HAMILTON (having reached JAKE’s place with the turkey platter, glowering at his father): Sadistic teachers?

(JAKE taking some turkey, fails to repress a faint smile, but mashes HAMILTON’s toes with a foot.)

DEAN: Hmmm, well, possibly, in part. But other than that? To the excellence of its musical score?

HAMILTON (moving on to the next guest): This from a Bach fan?

DEAN: Indulge an old educator his pedagogic license.

HAMILTON: The music’s rubbish. Six of the first nine notes are the same.

DEAN: So it must be the lyrics. They were written by a Massachusetts woman, a prominent abolitionist. Part of a campaign, led by a friend of hers, to make Thanksgiving a national holiday.

HAMILTON (moving on with the serving platter): Dad, the lyrics are doggerel. So bad they’re funny. That’s why you quoted them.

DEAN: So it’s a mystery? Forrest, have you any ideas that might rescue us from our perplexity?

RYDER (sweetly): Perhaps it’s still taught for the same reason it seems likely to have been written – to strengthen your charming custom of bringing extended families together on this holiday. Grandchildren mean so much in one’s last years, don’t they?

(RYDER, smiling, takes some turkey from HAMILTON, who returns him a withering glare. JAKE keeps her eyes glued to her plate.)

DEAN: So it’s said. But such a cynical explanation! Are we really so manipulative, Kate, that we’d deliberately fill our children’s heads with drivel just to increase our chances of seeing our grandchildren?

KATE (taking some turkey from HAMILTON): I trust that professional educators would never willingly be manipulative, dear. But we work for the parents who entrust their children to us, don’t we? And if parents want someday to see their grandchildren, who are we to gainsay them?

DEAN (sighing, taking a dish of stuffing from LENA): Sometimes our powerlessness is rather depressing.

ALICE (with an amused glance at WENDY): And perhaps a tad overstated.

DEAN (serving LENA some stuffing): Really, Alice? How so?

ALICE: Most of you educators are parents yourselves, Dean, and free to lead by example. Unexpected acts of love are what really change the world, I think. Don’t you, Wendy?

(JAKE, catching ALICE’s and WENDY’s names, smiles at them.)

WENDY (returning JAKE’s smile, while ladeling food onto HAMILTON’s plate): I do. And they’re not beyond educators acting in their capacity as parents. I’ve seen such things once or twice. Haven’t you, Alice?

ALICE (smiling up at HAMILTON, now next to her, taking some turkey): I believe I have. … (Patting the seat of HAMILTON’s chair:) Sit.

(HAMILTON returns the turkey platter to the sideboard, retakes his seat, his already plate loaded by WENDY, who hands HAMILTON his napkin. As HAMILTON unfolds it, he and JAKE exchange wary looks.)

DEAN (raising his wine glass): Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. … (Smiling at JAKE:) “To life, all of it.”

(The simple toast is enthusiastically received and drunk.)

KATE (setting down her glass): Dig in, everyone. For those of you who weren’t here last summer, the young gentleman seated across from Hamilton …

 

*       *       * 


	11. Scene 8 - Amazing Grace

INT – BANKS' DINING ROOM, ABOVE THE GAS STATION, NEW RAWLEY – DAY 3, THURSDAY (NIGHT)

 

(CHARLIE, BELLLA, GRACE and SCOUT are seated around a modest table. SCOUT, in his Rawley-crest blazer, sits opposite CHARLIE, GRACE opposite BELLA. They are finishing dessert – pumpkin bread pudding and cheesecake.)

SCOUT: Yes, he is. Very thankful. His re-election was too close for comfort.

CHARLIE: The people of Connecticut are lucky to have him. If he were running in Massachusetts, it’d be a pleasure to vote for him.

SCOUT (surprised): Really?

CHARLIE: I like what he stands for. He was a great guy even when he went to Rawley – I told you that last summer. And people can outgrow their mistakes. Your dad seems to have.

GRACE: You knew Scout’s father? The Senator?

CHARLIE: Not well, but yes. … Scout, do you mind if I explain all this to Grace? She’s going to need to know. And I’d like you to be here.

SCOUT: You’re right, she will. And I’m honored … that you’d want me with you for that, Mr. Banks.

GRACE: Explain all what?

CHARLIE: Grace, do you know why Scout is here with us this evening?

GRACE: Because if we backtrack through my sister’s social calendar, Scout’s the first guy we hit whose family doesn’t live in town?

BELLA: Funny.

GRACE: It’s a funny question. He’s here because we like him, and he can’t be with his family, obviously.

CHARLIE: Yes, but it’s more than that. Scout’s sharing Thanksgiving with us because he _is_ family, Grace.

GRACE (choking on her cheesecake): Excuse me?

CHARLIE: Scout’s father is Bella’s father, too. Your mom had an affair with him.

GRACE (setting down her fork): Oh my god … Is he my father too?

CHARLIE: No. I’m your father. But Scout is your half-sister’s half-brother. That’s why Scout and Bella stopped dating last summer. I had to tell them that. And now that Bella knows, you should know, too.

(GRACE stares at Scout.)

SCOUT (folding his napkin and pushing back his chair to face GRACE): Sorry, Grace.

GRACE: Don’t be. This may be hard for you and Bella. But for me, it’s not half bad. I don’t lose a boyfriend. Or a father. Or a sister. But I gain – is there a word for what we are?

SCOUT: If there is, I don’t know it.

GRACE: Anyhow, I gain you. And you’re really sort of sweet. You’ll make a great … whatever it is that we don’t have a word for.

SCOUT (smiling): I’ll try. And you’re sort of sweet, too, little half-sister of my half-sister.

GRACE (to BELLA): So does this mean I can hug him?

BELLA: No time like the present.

(GRACE jumps onto SCOUT’s lap, throws her arms around him, burrows her head in his shoulder. BELLA and CHARLIE exchange looks of grateful amusement.)

SCOUT (laughing): I think I’m gonna need a bigger chair.

CHARLIE (standing up): Then let’s move to the living room. Bella, you go ahead. I’ll be there soon, with some egg nog.

(SCOUT stands, carrying GRACE in his arms, tosses her slightly, and follows BELLA into the living room.)

 

*       *       *


	12. Scene 9 - We gather together

INT – FLEMINGS’ HOUSE, FORMAL DINING ROOM – DAY 3, THURSDAY (NIGHT)

 

(The turkey and other dishes present at the start of the meal are gone. Remnants of a pumpkin pie, an apple pie, and a bread pudding lie atop the sideboard. KATE and the students are drinking coffee or tea. The DEAN is absent. The Bach cello suites still play, now near their end. The three golden retrievers rest contentedly near the hearth.)

KATE: So I’ll walk about campus and judge the snow sculptures Sunday morning.

RYDER (coyly): Before chapel or after?

KATE: During.

RYDER: Ah … Pity the Dean doesn’t have that option. Who’ll be there to elbow him when he nods off?

KATE: I’m sure Hamilton would be happy to accompany his father to chapel. … (To HAMILTON:) Wouldn’t you, dear?

HAMILTON: Gee, Mom, I can’t let you dodder about on icy walkways unescorted. You might fall.

KATE: Ah, quite right. You’re so … thoughtful. So Jake, perhaps you’d be so kind as to come with me?

JAKE (clearing her throat to help lower her voice): Uh, sure, Mrs. Fleming.

ALICE (sipping tea to help mask her stifling of a laugh): And the prize for the best sculpture will be …?

KATE: Glory. Pictures in the _Rag_ and the yearbook. And, courtesy of an anonymous donor, four tickets to a Broadway play toward the end of Christmas break. Two for the winner, two for the runner-up.

(The doorbell rings. The DEAN emerges from the parlor, opens the front door, greets FINN and WILL.)

DEAN (joined at the door by the dogs): Happy Thanksgiving, Finn, Will. Thank you both for coming. Please make yourselves at home in the parlor. More of us will join you there shortly. Hamilton, would you please help Finn and Mr. Krudski find their way to the egg nog?

HAMILTON (folding his napkin): Excuse me.

(HAMILTON gets up, helps the DEAN take and hang FNN’s and WILL’s coats and scarves. After they remove their snowboots, he ushers them into the parlor.)

DEAN (returning to the dining room): Ladies and gentlemen, our numbers have grown past what this table can accommodate. So at least some of us must adjourn to the parlor for egg nog. There’s a wee bit of brandy in it, just enough to cut it. Kate, shall just us menfolk go drink it? Would you ladies prefer to remain here, so as to avoid the coarseness of male conversation in the presence of alcohol?

KATE: Steven, that’s all very sweet and old-fashioned, but I assure you that all the women here can bear the vicissitudes of male company. … (Smiling sweetly at JAKE:) Indeed, some of us can do so better than one might imagine.

(JAKE lowers her eyes to stare at her coffee cup. The DEAN walks to KATE’s seat.)

DEAN (helping KATE rise from her chair): Well then, shall we all move back to the parlor?

(The DEAN offers KATE his arm; she takes it. The boys help the girls rise, then, following the DEAN and KATE, escort them into the parlor. RYDER and WENDY are the last couple out. Passing JAKE, the odd man out, WENDY offers, by gesture, to take JAKE’s arm; JAKE freezes. RYDER then offers JAKE his free arm; JAKE freezes again. RYDER and WENDY look at each other, shrug, smile, and move toward the parlor. JAKE, alone, brings up the rear. The three dogs join her, nuzzling her affectionately.)

 

*       *       *


	13. Scene 10 - For the beauty of the earth

INT – FLEMINGS’ HOUSE, PARLOR – DAY 3, THURSDAY (NIGHT)

 

(In the parlor, no music plays from the sound system. Three large pitchers of eggnog and two dozen glasses sit atop trays on a long table abutting the inner wall. FINN, WILL and HAMILTON stand drinking eggnog near the now-blazing fire. KATE and the DEAN enter, followed by their student guests. The DEAN begins to pour and serve egg nog. Kate goes to welcome FINN and WILL. JAKE retreats to a corner and crouches by a large potted plant to pet the dogs.)

KATE: Happy Thanksgiving, gentlemen. Will, our apologies for taking you from your family.

WILL: Happy Thanksgiving, Mrs. Fleming. It’s a pleasure to be here.

KATE (jerking her head toward JAKE): Hamilton, you’re relieved.

HAMILTON: Thanks, Mom. … (Kissing KATE's cheek:) And thanks for the surprise. Jake and I’ll be right back.

(HAMILTON crosses the room to JAKE, bends down to join her in petting the dogs.)

JAKE: Surprised?

HAMILTON: “Surprised” is an understatement. Your invitation, your hair, your clothes, your birthday present, all … extremely exceed expectations. Does the sled have a bitch pad?

JAKE: Just waiting for you, Hammy. But let’s focus. Are we gonna tell your folks this evening?

HAMILTON: Yeh. After the guests leave, things have gotta get less creepy.

JAKE: “Creepy” is an understatement. Ryder’s freaking me out. So are your parents. And what are Finn and Will doing here?

HAMILTON: Beats me. I don’t even know what you’re doing here. But we can’t stay huddled by ourselves. We’ve gotta go talk with them. Now.

JAKE: With Finn? Hamilton …

HAMILTON: Yes, with Finn. No more running. We can do this.

(JAKE, eyes fixed on HAMILTON’s, takes a deep breath, bites her lip, nods.)

HAMILTON: Ready?

JAKE: Yeh. Let’s go, boy.

(JAKE stands, HAMILTON following. They join KATE, FINN and WILL.)

JAKE: Finn, Will, Happy Thanksgiving.

FINN (extending his hand): Happy Thanksgiving, Jake, and welcome back. … (Shaking JAKE’s hand, smiling warmly:) You’ve been missed. (FINN releases her hand, but continues to smile reassuringly.)

JAKE: Thanks, Finn.

WILL: It’s been too long, man. Happy Turkey Day. And chill. Everything’s cool here.

JAKE: Yeh, we should talk.

WILL: We will. Soon.

KATE: So, Will, how was dinner with your family?

WILL (after a pause): Good. Finn charmed my dad. Hooked him by reminiscing about his misspent childhood in town. Reeled him in by ridiculing stuck-up rich kids he knew at Rawley or Harvard …

FINN: Who remained anonymous.

WILL: Then landed him by showing that some of them morphed into really exemplary people. He ended by saying that he still doesn’t understand how that happens, that it seems sort of miraculous. When we left, my dad even said a few kind words to me.

JAKE: Sounds like our lit teacher gets an “A plus” in Thanksgiving rhetoric.

HAMILTON: Contemplation of the miraculous. So why did you guys cut that short and come here?

FINN: We’re here to help welcome Jake …

(JAKE and HAMILTON furtively exchange worried glances.)

FINN: But I wouldn’t say that our contemplation of the miraculous has been cut short.

(A spoon rings against a glass. The conversations in the room die.)

DEAN: Excuse me. … I don’t know how to live without feeling thankful. And I don’t know how to feel thankful without having someone to thank. For me, no more theological baggage than that is needed to make this holiday’s traditional hymns worth singing. Miss Rosenfeld has kindly consented to play a few, and perhaps you might join Kate and me in singing them. …

KATE (patting a pile of sheets atop the piano): Lyrics are here if you want them.

(As the guests take lyrics, KATE joins the DEAN. LENA seats herself at the piano, opens it, plays the refrain of a [hymn](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bJclVJ1SZEk). She then plays and ALL – even RYDER, nudged by WENDY – sing:)

           For the beauty of the earth,  
           for the glory of the skies,  
           for the love which from our birth  
           over and around us lies;  
           Lord of all, to Thee we raise  
           this our hymn of grateful praise.

(The DEAN and KATE sing, each with an arm around the other, looking into each other’s eyes. JAKE and HAMILTON, singing, look at them enviously, then, briefly, at each other. Watching them, RYDER and WENDY exchange amused eye-rolls.)

 

*       *       *


	14. Scene 11 - Little women

INT – BANKS' LIVING ROOM, ABOVE THE GAS STATION, NEW RAWLEY – DAY 3, THURSDAY (NIGHT)

 

(SCOUT and GRACE sit on a sofa, GRACE nesting into him. CHARLIE, seated on a club chair, and BELLA, in a swing rocker, watch with amusement. All are drinking egg nog. Traditional Thanksgiving hymns play faintly on the CD player.)

GRACE: Daddy, you don't need to tell me that. And Scout, don't worry, I can keep a secret.

SCOUT: Thanks, Grace.

GRACE: So how bad is this for your family? You and Bella are about the same age, so your parents were already married nine months before Bella was born, right?

SCOUT: That’s right.

GRACE: Does your mom know about this?

SCOUT: I don’t think so.

GRACE (frowning): So it’s really bad. Have you talked about it with your dad?

SCOUT: Yes, once last summer. I asked him whether it was true, but I didn’t get a straight yes-or-no answer. I got the impression that he knew your mom, but doesn’t think that Bella could be his daughter. I’ll try again next time I see him.

GRACE: Oh. … Daddy, I know this is a really personal question, but … how did you find out that Scout’s father is Bella’s father, too? Did our mom tell you?

CHARLIE: No, she didn’t. She didn’t have too.

GRACE: Why not? Does Bella look a lot like Scout’s father?

(SCOUT chokes on his eggnog … then exchanges a thoughtful glance with BELLA.)

CHARLIE: No. Your mom’s dad told me. And your mom spent time with Scout’s father nine months before Bella was born.

SCOUT: My dad always comes back here for Rawley's Homecoming weekend. And that's always in late October or early November - about nine months before Bella's birthday.

GRACE (To CHARLIE): And our mom wasn’t spending time, that way, with you then?

CHARLIE: Or any other way. We weren’t married then. We got married after your mom got pregnant with Bella. We’d dated in high school, but not seriously.

GRACE (looking at BELLA): That was a really sweet thing to do. … (To CHARLIE:) But, if you didn’t spend much time with her, how do you know that Scout’s dad was the only other guy she spent time with?

CHARLIE: He was the only other guy that people ever said they saw her with out in public. And she was pretty open about liking Scout’s dad. She’d dated him when she was in high school and he was a student at Rawley. If she liked another guy, too, why wouldn’t she have been just as open about that?

GRACE: Dad … use your imagination. Suppose another guy was Bella’s father. Maybe he needed or wanted to be private. Like, maybe he was married. And maybe she wanted to protect him.

CHARLIE: From me? Why? I’m pretty sure your mom knew who I’d been told Bella’s father was. If she thought that was wrong, why wouldn’t she have told me the truth?

GRACE: I don’t know. Have you ever even asked our mom, straight out?

CHARLIE: No … I didn’t need to … or want to. I decided to marry Donna and help her raise her child, and when you raise a child, you come to love that child. So it didn’t matter – until Scout showed up. And I didn’t want to suggest to Donna that it did matter.

(BELLA and SCOUT stare blankly at each other.)

GRACE: So what is there besides what our mom’s dad told you? Any letters from Scout’s dad to our mom? Any intimate photos of them? Did anybody ever see them making out … not in high school, but after he was married?

CHARLIE: Not that I know of. But Scout’s dad gave your mom some very expensive presents – jewelry, clothing. Men don’t usually give presents like that to women unless they’re sleeping with them.

GRACE: What kind of clothing?

CHARLIE: Dresses, shoes. Much nicer than she could have bought for herself. She never made any secret of who’d bought them for her.

GRACE (after a pause): Daddy, what was Scout’s dad doing here in town, years after he’d graduated from Rawley?

CHARLIE: He came up here for Rawley social functions – receptions, reunions, dances, athletic events. He took her with him to a lot of them.

GRACE: Prep school social functions. Full of rich people, where the women all wore nice dresses and shoes and jewelry? Like, a lot nicer than what our mom already had?

CHARLIE: Maybe. I’ve never been to any, except for athletic events.

GRACE: Were those the only places they were seen in together?

CHARLIE: No, at restaurants, too. Like the one at the Inn, where he stayed when he came to town.

GRACE: So the evidence is just our grand-dad’s word, our mom’s silence, her going to a lot of Rawley events and restaurants with Scout’s dad, his buying her the kind of stuff she’d need to do that, and her being an old sweetheart of his from when he went to Rawley?

(SCOUT and BELLA exchange a furtive eye-roll.)

CHARLIE: Well … yeh, I guess. But why would Donna’s dad lie to me about that?

GRACE: Daddy, you already said you knew Scout’s dad when he went to Rawley, right? And that you thought he was a really great guy? How’d you know him?

CHARLIE: I didn’t know him well. I’d run into him at parties occasionally, and we played touch football together a few times. But everybody knew who he was, because he was the Calhoun kid, the same way I think everybody in town knows who Scout is now – don’t they?

SCOUT: Not everybody, yet. But every month, more and more of the customers at the diner seem to know who I am.

CHARLIE: Anyhow, Grace, pretty much everybody liked Scout’s dad. He was handsome, pleasant, outgoing, helpful – and he never forgot a name or face. Even his ex-girlfriends and their families and boyfriends liked him. He was a politician, and a good one, even then.

GRACE: So our mom’s dad knew you liked him, because everybody liked him. He was rich, smart, popular, good-looking, and a Calhoun. And you wonder why our mom’s dad might have told you that the kid you were signing up to raise was his – even if it wasn’t?

CHARLIE: It wouldn’t have mattered. I didn’t marry your mother so that I could raise a Calhoun.

GRACE: But maybe her dad wanted to try to make you feel less bad about not being Bella’s father.

CHARLIE: It’s didn’t make me feel better. It made me feel seriously disappointed in Scout’s dad. He was someone we’d all looked up to.

GRACE: Daddy, I understand that. … But Scout, if your dad didn’t give you a simple “yes” or “no” answer, maybe that’s because there isn’t one. Could your dad and our mom have had sex when he went to Rawley, and maybe for a few years later, when he was in town, but not after he met your mom? Could he have asked our mom to go to parties where he needed a date, long after they’d stopped having sex?

SCOUT: Grace, so far as I know, that’s possible. … I hadn’t thought of that before. But it fits with what your dad’s said. And it fits with my dad’s situation … I mean, with my mom.

BELLA: What situation? Your parents were getting along well enough to make you.

SCOUT: They get along great, I think they always have. But my mom doesn’t like to come to Rawley, except during breaks, when the campus is empty. Nowadays she couldn’t come often anyhow – she’s busy raising my two kid sisters and my little brother. But I think that she always felt that way, even before she had me.

BELLA: Why? She must like kids, if she’s got four of her own. Does she not like prep schools? Or Rawley in particular?

SCOUT: Neither. She went to a prep school, liked it, still has friends from it, and goes back there often. And she likes Rawley a lot.

BELLA: Then I don’t get it.

SCOUT: Bella, I’m not sure, but I think maybe it’s that … there are some things here she likes so much that she doesn’t want people here to see how much she likes them. And she doesn’t enjoy hiding how much she likes them.

BELLA: Oh …

SCOUT: But my dad’s always enjoyed coming back here anytime. So my grand-dad made my dad his alternate on the Board of Trustees as soon as my dad finished law school. Ever since, he’s been coming here for Homecoming games in the fall, alumni reunions and graduation in the spring, parents’ weekend every term, and board meetings at least four times a year.

GRACE: And for a lot of those things he wanted a date?

SCOUT: Maybe. I can see why he might have, when he was younger. Most alumni show up for Homecoming, reunions, or parents’ weekends with their spouses. It’s part of my dad’s job to talk with them, and married guys tend to see young unaccompanied guys as threats.

GRACE: And your dad’s reputation from prep school would have been threatening.

SCOUT: Right. When my dad was a student here, there was no Rawley Girls' yet, but … he knew a lot of girls in this town. He’s told me that. Your dad just said as much. And at the diner, I’ve had my cheek patted by more than one of his ex-girlfriends.

GRACE: Yeh, he probably could have had almost any girl he wanted.

SCOUT: But as he got older, and got a reputation as a family man, that would have become less of a problem. Nowadays he just shows up at Rawley events alone.

BELLA: Good. Going to dances and receptions with an old high school sweetheart after you’re married sounds to me like asking for trouble.

SCOUT: It’s not the preferred form, obviously.

BELLA: Dad, after Scout’s dad was married, was he ever seen in town with any women other than our mom?

CHARLIE: Your mom was the only one I ever heard of him going out with.

BELLA: So maybe after my mom got pregnant with me, it occurred to him that what he’d been doing wasn’t smart – whether they were still having sex or not.

SCOUT: Last summer, when I talked with him about this … my dad did say he’d made some mistakes … maybe that’s what he meant.

CHARLIE (clearly shaken): Maybe. … Look, Scout, Bella, I’m a lot less sure about all this than I was. I wish we knew more. And I’ll try to find out more. But meanwhile, I still have to ask you two not to date each other.

SCOUT: I completely agree.

CHARLIE: Feel free to ask Donna if you want. But I can’t say I’d trust her answer.

GRACE (after an awkward silence): Well, it’s too bad we can’t be sure that we’re family, Scout. Like Bella says, you’re from a whole different world. To be related to you would be like something out a Dickens novel. (She hugs SCOUT tighter.)

BELLA: This certainly isn’t out of a Jane Austen novel. She gave older sisters good sense and younger sisters romantic sensibility.

GRACE (to SCOUT): I guess back in Dickens’ time, when families were a lot bigger, they more often included people in both worlds, yours and ours. But I never dreamed of being in one.

SCOUT (plainly welcoming a change of subject): What Dickens have you read in middle school?

GRACE: Just _Great Expectations_ , and I didn’t like it much. But I’ve used _David Copperfield_ and _Little Dorrit_ for pump reading. They were better.

SCOUT: Pump reading?

BELLA: A lot of the time, we’re waiting for customers, Scout. So we read.

SCOUT: I’ve noticed. … Where do you get your books? The town library?

GRACE: Some. And some from the school libraries. But mostly from our dad’s room. May we show him, Daddy?

CHARLIE: Sure.

GRACE (standing, pulling SCOUT up with her): Come with.

(GRACE opens a closed door leading off the living room. Inside are a bed and nightstand, a dresser, a fan-backed wooden chair, and floor-to-ceiling bookcases covering two walls, filled mostly with paperback books.  BELLA and CHARLIE stand and join SCOUT and GRACE at the threshold.)

SCOUT (astonished): You’ve read all these?

CHARLIE: Most of them. Old novels, mostly. Most were bought used, some are gifts. They kill pump time. And, well, I’m no longer married.

SCOUT: So who’s your favorite novelist?

CHARLIE: Conrad.

SCOUT: The only thing I’ve read by him is _Heart of Darkness_. I didn’t understand it. But Dickens I can grasp, I think. And I’m embarrassed to find that my maybe-half-sister’s little half-sister has read more Dickens than I have.

BELLA: You must be kidding. What have you read by him?

SCOUT: Just _Tale of Two Cities_ , although my dad reads _A Christmas Carol_ to us every year. _Twist_ was assigned last year, but it was so depressing that I skimmed through a lot of it.

BELLA: Well, you are way behind your maybe-half-sister there, Mr. Calhoun.

SCOUT: So I’ll catch up. Care to recommend a Dickens novel? Preferably something cheerful?

BELLA (after a pause): The only cheerful Dickens I’ve read is _Christmas Carol_. Other than that, the least depressing is _Dorrit_. But only because the heroine is impossibly strong and good – all sweetness and light, despite living in a debtor’s prison and losing not one but two miraculous inheritances. At least Dickens doesn’t kill her off – unlike Nell in _The Old Curiosity Shop_.

SCOUT (wincing): Ewww …

CHARLIE: Kids often died back then, Scout. And when Dickens was a child, his father spent time in the debtor’s prison described in _Dorrit_. An inheritance from a rich relative set him free. Dickens’ favorite plot resolution – urchin is rescued by inheritance from distant relative – actually happened back then.

GRACE: Because families were bigger.

SCOUT: Yeh. … How about _Copperfield_? Will keeps throwing his copy of that at me.

BELLA: Seriously depressing, Scout. At its core, _Copperfield_ is about a gay love affair that starts at an all-boys' boarding school and later goes terribly wrong.

SCOUT (choking): No way. Dickens wrote for middle-class Victorians.

BELLA: Right, so it isn’t explicit, just subtly implied in lots of ways. For example, Copperfield says that the “intimacy was cemented” when his friend, the head boy, had Copperfield read stories to him every night before going to sleep and every morning before the wake-up bell. “Like Scheherazade,” he says. We’re told Copperfield shared a room with other boys, not including the head boy, so what does that imply?

SCOUT (after a pause): That the head boy had a single room, and that Copperfield slept there.

BELLA: Right.

SCOUT: But how could the head boy get away with that?

BELLA: We’re told he was the headmaster’s favorite, that he could get away with anything. His family was rich, the implication is that they gave money to the school.

SCOUT: Oh …

BELLA: Copperfield likes girls, marries twice. But by far the most intense relationship he has, the one that really drives the book, is with his boarding school friend. Copperfield idolizes him, makes him his hero, is blind to his faults – and so fails to love him well. That has tragic consequences, and Copperfield spends the rest of the novel atoning – partly by writing the novel. He’s supposed to be the author.

GRACE: Do you know the opening sentence – “Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life … these pages must show “?

SCOUT: Yeh, I have managed to get that far in Will’s copy.

GRACE: Copperfield tries to become the hero of his own life by writing it – kind of a warning about how not to love – so that other people can learn from it.

CHARLIE: But can art make up for failure to love well in real life? Sure, a writer can love his readers through his writing, but is that enough?

SCOUT: You sound like my lit teacher, Mr. Banks. He’d tell me to personalize that question. … And no, trying to love everybody through government isn’t enough. On the other hand, we don’t ever love well enough, no matter what we do, do we?

CHARLIE: No, we don’t. And trying to help other people love better by writing isn't bad.

SCOUT: Well, at least that’s a deeper kind of depressing than “we used to treat kids like dirt.” … (To BELLA:) Maybe Will’s right. I’ll give _Copperfield_ a real try.

GRACE: Scout, could I suggest another book? One way less depressing?

SCOUT: Grace, if you recommend it, I’ll read it.

GRACE (beaming): Alcott’s _Little Women_. It’s a chick book, but I think you could handle it.

SCOUT: And why do you think I’d like that?

GRACE: Uh, because you like girls?

SCOUT (laughing): That’s a reason.

GRACE: Daddy, would you please lend Scout your copy?

CHARLIE (grinning): Sure. (He pulls down a book, one of his few hard-covers, hands it to SCOUT.)

GRACE: Open it.

SCOUT (reading an inscription on the front page): “To Charlie, on becoming on a father – again. Finn.”

CHARLIE: Your lit teacher and I have been friends since grade school. Not many guys our age in this town are single. So we still get together now and then. It’s a small town, Scout, and that’s not all bad.

SCOUT: It’s not bad at all. I’m just starting to see how good it can be.

CHARLIE: Good. Because you’re part of it now. And if you take over keeping an eye on the prep school for your family someday, you’ll be an important part of it.

SCOUT: I’m looking forward to that, Mr. Banks. … But I can’t borrow this book. It’s way too personal.

CHARLIE: The girl at whose birth I was given it just said you could.

SCOUT: Thanks, Grace. … (Backing into the living room:) Can I help clean up in the kitchen before I go?

BELLA (following SCOUT): No, run along. Sean’s coming by here with his new girlfriend soon. Since you’re her ex and mine, better you not be here, so that we can gossip about you. (She walks to the closet near the head of the stairs.)

SCOUT: Why don’t you gossip about Sean?

BELLA (cheerily, retrieving a herringbone greatcoat from the closet): Oh, I will. But I’ll gossip about you first to establish my credibility.

SCOUT: Gee, it’s great to feel useful. … Well, thank you all for an unforgettable Thanksgiving.

CHARLIE: You’re more than welcome, Scout. When’s your next shift at the diner?

SCOUT: Saturday lunch.

CHARLIE: I might stop by. Good night.

(SCOUT and CHARLIE shake hands.)

SCOUT: Good-night, Mr. Banks.

GRACE: Good night, whatever-it-is-that-maybe-we-are.

SCOUT (hugging GRACE, kissing her forehead): Whatever it is we are, I’m glad we are, Grace. Good night.

BELLA (handing SCOUT the greatcoat): I’ll see Scout out, Daddy.

(BELLA and SCOUT go downstairs, SCOUT carrying his coat and _Little Women_.)

 

*       *       *


	15. Scene 12 - Grace is Grace

INT – CHARLIE BANK’S GAS STATION – DAY 3, THURSDAY (NIGHT)

 

(BELLA and SCOUT come downstairs to the office, lit only by the streetlights, the neon light script on the 1920’s-style canopy and the glowing globes atop the 1940’s gas pumps outside.)

SCOUT (putting on his coat, stuffing _Little Women_ into an inside pocket): I won’t forget that as long as I live. Ya feelin’ kinda humbled?

BELLA: God, she asked all the questions we should have asked five months ago.

SCOUT (buttoning up his coat): No joke. Brains, courage, tact, and a good hugging arm. What more could a whatever-I-am ask for?

BELLA: Yeh, well … Grace is Grace.

SCOUT: "Despite of all controversy."

(BELLA smiles.)

SCOUT (putting on his boots): Bella, I’ve decided what I’d like to get you – get us – for Christmas, if you’ll take it.

BELLA: A Caribbean vacation?

SCOUT: No, a DNA test.

BELLA: Much better.

SCOUT: For sure. Happy Thanksgiving, Bella.

BELLA: You too, Scout.

(SCOUT leaves, neither offering nor being offered any physical expression of affection. BELLA tilts her head slightly, pensively watches him walk away.)

 

*       *       *


	16. Scene 13 - Fathers and sons

INT – FLEMINGS’ HOUSE, LIBRARY – DAY 3, THURSDAY (NIGHT)

 

(A low fire burns in the hearth. Sarah McLachlan’s _Surfacing_ , currently at “[Angel](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iqmyxQrbGc4),” plays softly in the CD player. KATE sits in one of the two rockers, FINN and WILL on the sofa nearer the windows, FINN at the end near the hearth, JAKE and HAMILTON on the sofa nearer the inner wall, HAMILTON at the end near the hearth, the golden retrievers at his feet. The DEAN serves dry sherry from a decanter on a tray on the coffee table.)

DEAN: Kate and I regret, Jake, that we had to ask you to deceive Hamilton in order to keep your visit a surprise. We appreciate how disagreeable it is to deceive even one person, even briefly, about even a relatively minor matter. Much less would we wish to make you deceive more people for a longer time about something more important.

(JAKE and HAMILTON exchange wary glances. The DEAN finishes serving the sherry, stops the decanter, smiles, sits down with his glass. KATE glares askance at her husband, who is enjoying himself rather too much.)

DEAN: I also regret, Mr. Pratt, that I had to ask you to leave Rawley at the end of summer session.

(JAKE carefully sets down her glass on her coaster on the coffee table, straightens, looks the DEAN in the eye. WILL stares into his sherry glass, FINN at the fire. HAMILTON straightens, tenses, looks at JAKE.)

JAKE (slowly, firmly): Nobody asked me to leave. I just left.

DEAN: That’s not how I remember it, and you might prefer my memory to your own. Enrolling under false pretenses, such as about one’s gender, requires a year of involuntary rather than voluntary separation from the school before reenrollment. In that regard, Jacqueline, your academic record here was excellent, and the deadline for applications to transfer to Rawley Girls’ next autumn is March first.

(A pause. JAKE and HAMILTON, initially paralyzed, turn to face each other.)

KATE (smiling warmly at JAKE): Finn told us.

DEAN: Not in August, when he caught you. Nor in September, when we asked him whether he had any idea why you hadn’t come back for fall term.

KATE: Only two weeks ago, after Steven and I grew concerned that Hamilton seemed to be gay and evading the issue. We considered forbidding him to visit you until he told us the truth. I told Finn that, and asked for his advice. Only then did he tell us what he thought he saw in the dorm shower room last August.

FINN (looking up from his glass, to JAKE): But I hadn’t been sure I’d really seen what I thought I saw. My glasses were off, I had feathers and water in my eyes. So before talking to Hamilton’s parents, I inquired, discreetly. Which is why Mr. Krudski is here with us this evening.

WILL: Ham, the game was up. Somebody was going to have to tell your parents. I thought I could do that better than you could – for some of the same reasons you agreed with yesterday, when I explained why you and Jacqueline shouldn’t tell your story to the students yourselves. So I told your parents everything you and Jacqueline told Scout and Sean and Bella and me on our walk to Carson.

DEAN: And a remarkable story it is. Novel but strangely familiar, something age-old come alive. … (To FINN:) Although perhaps I should defer to our literature teacher about that.

(From between raised eyebrows and lowered glasses-rims, FINN’s eyes beg the DEAN to stop torturing the kids. The DEAN pauses, looks at HAMILTON, inviting a response.)

HAMILTON (dazed, but recovering): Dad, thank you for what you’re trying to do, but … how do you expect anyone to believe that you found out Jacqueline’s a girl and booted her at the end of summer session, after publicly inviting her back here today as a guy, and as my gay date? And after not having punished me, too?

DEAN (sniffing his sherry): Do you think me a humorless man, son? Totally lacking any sense of irony?

HAMILTON: No, I suspect that when people find out you invited Jacqueline here for Thanksgiving dinner as a guy, despite knowing she was a girl, your reputation for ironic humor will be legendary.

DEAN: I do hope so. Because, you see, your punishment has been to have to let everyone think you’re gay, and to be unable to have Jacqueline visit you here, all through fall term. That’s about three times as long as you failed to report that Jacqueline was a girl, and let other students think you and she were gay, during summer session. It seems ironically just, don’t you think?

HAMILTON: It could pass for that.

DEAN: Then I see no reason not to take credit for it. It’s not a punishment I could inflict on a student other than my own son, but I doubt I’ll be faulted for letting you off too lightly. Or for being too harsh or perverse, given that I’ve let you visit Jacqueline at Grottlesex.

HAMILTON: What about this evening?

DEAN: Having a little fun at your expense and Jacqueline’s this evening is how I’ve chosen both to conclude and to publicize your punishment. Until the storm hit, I hadn’t expected so large an audience, or so dramatic an entrance by Jacqueline … but I rather think this evening makes my authorship of the rest of your punishment more credible, don’t you?

HAMILTON (smiling feebly): Yes, sir, it could, but …

DEAN: You’ve already punished yourself enough, Hamilton. I just have to make your punishment official. Just as Jacqueline, come next fall, will already have punished herself enough, and all I need do is make her punishment official.

(The DEAN sets down his glass, rises, walks to stand beside KATE’s chair.)

DEAN: But Jacqueline, whether you wish or will be allowed to return to Rawley is not the question at hand. The admissions committee is not in session this evening, nor am I its only member. … (Resting a hand on KATE’s shoulder:) However, Kate and I are the only parents Hamilton has, and we are both here now. We love him, Jacqueline. We understand you may too. Do you?

JAKE (nodding, then fiercely rasping, through welling tears): Yes!

(The DEAN helps KATE rise. FINN, WILL and HAMILTON stand. The DEAN crosses to JAKE, takes her hands, raises her to her feet.)

DEAN: Then welcome to our family.

(The DEAN turns JAKE toward KATE. KATE takes JAKE's hands, smiles, hugs her. The DEAN, watching the women, puts an arm around HAMILTON’s shoulders.)

DEAN (to HAMILTON): Lovely. … (Flapping a hand toward the windows:) The campus in winter by moonlight, that is. We have a prospective transfer student who has not yet seen that, Hamilton. Perhaps you might be so kind as to show it to her? … (To FINN and WILL:) Please excuse us for a moment, gentlemen.

(The DEAN walks with HAMILTON into the parlor toward the front door. KATE, JAKE and the dogs follow.)

WILL: Melodramatic, but effective.

FINN: Yes. He seems to have stunned them into ignoring, for the moment, the implications of his offer to lie for them.

WILL: If he does that, and the Board finds out, he’s toast?

FINN (nodding): Too big a scandal, too close to home. But Steven will have done what he can to cover himself. I suspect one Board member already knows.

WILL: John Calhoun?

FINN: He and Kate drove down to Greenwich Saturday before last, two days after you told them the story.

WILL (puzzled): Really?

FINN: Hardly surprising, Will. On top of everything else, Scout’s involved in this too.

WILL: So if Hamilton’s dad were caught lying, how much cover could Scout’s dad give him?

FINN: Assuming he’s not caught publicly, maybe enough to allow him to finish out a school year and resign for “personal reasons.”

WILL: You’re worried?

FINN: He’s not pretending to have suspended Jacqueline formally, just to have asked her informally to leave. That’s normal in all but the nastiest cases, and he keeps the only records of his informal disciplinary actions. But too many people at here and at Grottlesex have heard a different story. So yes, I’m worried.

WILL: Don’t be. I know things you and the Dean don’t. Good things that I just learned in the past few days. Senator Calhoun knows them too. He’s just letting Hamilton see how much his dad loves him. There’ll be no more lying, Finn.

FINN: You’re sure?

WILL: Yes. Just let it play out, please. It will, this weekend, I’m sure.

FINN: That’s a relief. Thanks.

WILL: You know, I’m starting to like Scout’s dad even more than I did last summer.

FINN I’ve liked him since I was a first-year here. He was a fourth-year, but we both rowed.

WILL: I know – now. … So why’d you say, “Pleased to meet you,” when Scout introduced you to his dad at parents’ weekend last summer?

FINN: To spare Scout embarrassment. I talked to him later about not being quite so compulsive about the formalities. He has a habit of making needless introductions.

WILL: Yeh, he does. And I have a habit of not seeing through them. … So your remark to Scout’s dad that his boat still holds the record was to let the Senator know that you hadn’t forgotten him?

FINN: To let him know I haven’t forgotten his help in learning to row. He knows I haven’t forgotten him. Nobody on the faculty forgets the Board Chairman.

WILL (laughing): I’m sure.

FINN: So, care to tell me what your mom pulled you into her kitchen to talk about this evening? You seemed upset when you came out. …

 

*       *       * 


	17. Scene 14 - Si vieillesse savoit

INT – FLEMINGS’ HOUSE, FRONT VESTIBULE – DAY 3, THURSDAY (NIGHT)

 

(The DEAN takes down JAKE’s parka, helps her into it. HAMILTON takes down his parka, puts it on. As HAMILTON and a still teary-eyed JAKE fasten their parkas and put on their boots, KATE comes down the stairs carrying JAKE’s snowmobile helmet bag.)

KATE (handing JAKE the bag): You’ll want this. … (To HAMILTON:) Jacqueline said she’d be bringing it.

JAKE (rasping, handing the bag to HAMILTON): Happy Thanksgiving.

(HAMILTON takes a black snowmobile helmet out of the bag, hands the empty bag back to KATE, wraps an arm around JAKE, nuzzles her head.)

DEAN: And this … (Pulling a small envelope out an inside jacket pocket:) … is permission to sled on school grounds through Sunday. I understand Commonwealth law requires you to carry it in writing.

(JAKE nods, wiping her eyes. The DEAN hands the envelope to HAMILTON, who puts it into an inside parka pocket.)

DEAN (to JAKE): School grounds cover this shore of the lake all the way to the old bridge. From there, there's a trail into town, and you can park in the Inn’s lot - I've spoken with the manager. 

(JAKE, still sniffling, nods again.)

HAMILTON: Thanks, Dad.

DEAN: Only possible because we’re on break – at least technically. 

KATE: Be back in time to get some sleep. I’m putting you both on a train to Boston tomorrow morning. With my Filene’s charge card. … (To JAKE:) Buy some girl clothes.

JAKE (still rasping a bit): Mrs. Fleming, I brought some. … Hamilton and I were going to tell you …

DEAN: We know, Jacqueline. Buy some more. Not the kind you wear to meet your boyfriend’s parents. The kind that’ll make every boy who saw you last summer ask himself how he could have failed to see that you’re a girl.

KATE: And whatever you need to avoid having to lug things between here and Grottlesex. You’re welcome to keep things here between visits. The front guest room’s yours to use as much or as little as you like.

(One of HAMILTON’s eyebrows arches slightly.)

KATE: And in Hamilton’s closet is a bag for his outgrown clothes. When it fills up we give it to the thrift shop. Please consider making a contribution.

JAKE (nodding again, recovering): Thank you, this is …

DEAN: Our pleasure, Jacqueline. Take a day to relax and get ready to face the students. … And Hamilton?

HAMILTON: Yes, Dad?

DEAN: A few hours ago, I couldn’t say openly what I was most thankful for, just as you couldn’t. Now I can. I’m thankful I have a son who’s done what you’ve done since last summer. And that the girl you love loves you enough to sled here in drag for you. And, last but not least, that your mother and I needn’t give up on grandchildren quite yet. Forgive our teasing?

HAMILTON: Dad, it’ll make a great story for your grandchildren. But Jacqueline and I’ve been thinking of maybe holding off on them till we’re second-years. That OK?

DEAN: Kate and I will try to control our impatience.

(KATE restrains the dogs as the DEAN opens the front door.)

DEAN: Now off with you. As you know, Lena is owed an apology. This evening, if you please.

(JAKE and HAMILTON go outside. The DEAN shuts the door.)

DEAN (embracing KATE affectionately): _Si vieillesse savoit_ …

KATE: _Si jeunesse pouvoit_.

(KATE and the DEAN linger in the vestibule, facing each other, loosely hugging, listening and waiting with growing amusement. Every few seconds, the DEAN nibbles on KATE’s neck, or ear, or lips, then returns to listening and waiting. Finally, they hear the roar of a snowmobile engine, burst into laughter, and walk, each with an arm around the other, into the parlor.)

 

*       *       *


	18. Scene 15 - Whist beats blubbering

INT – FLEMINGS’ HOUSE, LIBRARY – DAY 3, THURSDAY (NIGHT)

 

(FINN and WILL stand near the hearth, talking.)

FINN: Will, if I’d known, I would never have brought you here this evening.

WILL: That’s why I didn’t tell you. Time’s too short not to spend it on the things we _can_ change.

FINN: Your dad knows?

WILL (nodding): He seemed … almost happy, didn’t he?

FINN: Maybe he is.

(KATE and the DEAN enter from the parlor, the dogs following. FINN and WILL turn toward them.)

FINN: Will and I should be going.

DEAN: Normally, perhaps. But not this evening. If you leave now, Kate will start blubbering, and soon I’ll be blubbering with her. That’s no way to keep a feast. Stay with us till the kids come back, please?

(FINN defers to WILL, on whom the dogs are fawning.)

WILL: We’d be honored, sir.

DEAN: Splendid! Kate, I’ll take you at your word about bearing the vicissitudes of male company. Coronas, cognac, concerti, conversation, and cards, that’s the ticket.

KATE: And perhaps some coffee?

DEAN: Once Will and I’ve won a few hands I’ll allow anything alliterative.

FINN: Sounds like a sleepy soirée.

(KATE, grinning, opens a liquor cabinet built into a bookshelf. The DEAN opens the drawer of the card table, pulls out two decks of cards, a pad of paper, and a pencil.)

DEAN: Play whist, Will?

WILL: No sir. Poker, mostly.

(FINN and WILL amble toward the card table. The DEAN opens a humidor on top of his desk. The dogs settle down in front of the hearth.)

DEAN (to WILL): You’re a quick study, you’ll catch on.

(The DEAN offers a cigar to FINN, who accepts, and WILL, who declines. He takes a cigar for himself, closes the box, moves an ashtray from desk to card table, picks up a cigar trimmer, offers it to FINN, who clips the end of his cigar, gives back the trimmer. The Dean trims his cigar, picks up a matchbox, lights first FINN’s cigar, then his own. KATE brings a bottle of cognac and four Rawley-crest snifters on a tray, sets them on the card table.)

DEAN (to WILL, while helping KATE into a seat at the table): It’s like bridge, but with less bidding. One teams with a partner. Finn and Kate think they make a great team, but you and I’ll have them begging for mercy soon enough.

(WILL shoots a quick, furtive, worried look at FINN. The DEAN crosses the room to the CD player, finds a disk, inserts it, returns to the card table, takes a seat next to KATE. FINN seats himself opposite KATE, WILL opposite the DEAN. Bach’s [harpsichord concerto no. 1 in D minor](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2laUv3y7OfA) begins to play. The DEAN pours the cognac, raises his snifter, swirls, smells.)

DEAN: Mr. Krudski, might I impose upon you to offer a toast?

WILL: The first toast is the host’s prerogative, isn’t it, sir?

DEAN: It is. And rooming with a Calhoun is instructive, isn’t it?

WILL (laughing): Scout’s dad was a stickler for etiquette, too?

DEAN: They have to be, sometimes. But am I really the host here this evening?

WILL: It’s your house.

DEAN: Actually, it’s not, as the school crest on everything in it serves to remind me. My home’s in Boston, I’m just hired help here. And I’m not the one from whose mother Mary McGrail said she learned that our students needed Thanksgiving hosts. Thank you for that.

WILL: It would have happened without me.

DEAN: Perhaps, but less well. … I’m also not the one who served what for Kate and me has been the best part of this Thanksgiving. That wasn’t the food, it was a story. I think that to tell that story is to be a host, Will. You understand why?

WILL (nodding): Because to hear it is to be invited into it.

FINN: Into something far older than Jacqueline and Hamilton.

KATE (smiling at the DEAN): “And yet ever new.”

DEAN (returning KATE’s smile): Yes. … (To WILL:) So, Will, a toast, please?

WILL (softly, raising his snifter): To true love!

FINN, KATE, and the DEAN: True love!

(They drink. The DEAN shuffles the cards while starting to explain the rules of the game. )

 

*       *       *


	19. Scene 16 - Thanksgiving Present

EXT - RAWLEY GIRLS’, THE SIGNPOST, DAY 3 - THURSDAY (NIGHT)

 

(A nearly full moon. SCOUT, trudging back toward the boys’ school in his herringbone greatcoat, is first annoyed by the din, then blinded by the headlight, of a snowmobile coming through the woods in opposite direction, off the shoveled path but near it. It stops, a few meters ahead, headlight pointed directly in his face.)

SCOUT (shielding his eyes, shouting): Either move on by or turn that thing off.

JAKE (helmeted, cutting the engine of her sled but leaving the headlight on, deepening her voice, lengthening her vowels): Scout Calhoun?

SCOUT: The one and only. Hereabouts, anyhow. Who are you?

JAKE: I am the ghost of Thanksgiving Present, Calhoun. Were you not warned by Bella to expect me?

SCOUT: No, dinner was quite pleasant. You know, you’re gonna drain that battery.

HAMILTON (also helmeted, on the rear seat of the sled, imitating JAKE’s “Thanksgiving Present” voice): Insolent mortal! You pocketed fudge from the girls’ school two nights ago.

SCOUT: Another eon in purgatory?

HAMILTON: You slacked off and threw snowballs during shoveling.

SCOUT: As did every other guy at this school, Your Omniscience.

JAKE: You guzzle instant whipped cream from the can at your job.

SCOUT: Not since summer. I was putting on weight.

HAMILTON: And you have impure thoughts in Latin class.

SCOUT: That’s what Latin classes are for, Fleming. Where did you get a sled?

JAKE (loudly, revving her engine and flashing her headlight on and off): I am not Hamilton Fleming! Fleming lusts after cross-dressing she-men, and you know this, but have failed in your duty to report it!

SCOUT (jumping the snowbank and wallowing toward the sled): Enough! Who the hell are you, you sick creep? (He reaches the sled, pulls off JAKE’s helmet, fails to notice HAMILTON crouching behind her.)

JAKE (cutting the engine and dousing the light): Happy Thanksgiving, cutie!

(JAKE jumps on SCOUT, kisses him intensely. SCOUT falls back into the snow with JAKE on top of him. HAMILTON, pushed backward by JAKE’s jump, falls off the rear seat, laughing.)

SCOUT (breaking off): Pratt! This is a pleasant surprise. You can do that again anytime you like.

JAKE (standing up): In your dreams, Calhoun.

SCOUT: So where’s Hamilton?

JAKE (extending her hand): Get up and see for yourself.

(SCOUT manages to stand up, spots HAMILTON still laughing in the snow, wallows over to him.)

SCOUT: Ah, both you clowns. It figures. … (Offering HAMILTON a hand:) Come on, get up before you get snow in your boxers.

HAMILTON (taking SCOUT’s hand, still laughing): Thanks. (He stands up, leans on SCOUT, removes his helmet, sets it on the sled.)

SCOUT: I guess I don’t need to ask how Jacqueline got here. And you’ve obviously spoken with Bella since I left the Banks’.

JAKE: That’s what phones are for, boy. Fixed monthly fees. Seems a waste not to use them.

SCOUT: But you two might be more discreet. Jacqueline, you shouted so loudly I could have heard it across the lake.

HAMILTON: Doesn’t matter anymore. … (He grabs SCOUT’s head with both hands, tousles his hair, locks foreheads with him, grins.) … My folks know. And they’re delighted. Jake’s spending the weekend at my house. Tomorrow we train into Boston to buy her some girl clothes. With my mom’s money. We’re free, Scout.

(HAMILTON kisses SCOUT hard on the forehead, pushes off from him, pulls JAKE to him, nuzzles her, grins irrepressibly at SCOUT.)

SCOUT: So you told them. Congratulations!

JAKE: No. They told us.

SCOUT: What?

HAMILTON: Finn and Will sort of ratted us out.

JAKE: At the right time.

HAMILTON: And in the right way. For details, ask Will.

SCOUT: I will. I’m really happy for you both. But, uh, are you guys drunk? Or stoned?

JAKE: No, but either’s an idea with merit.

HAMILTON: You offering?

SCOUT: No. You’re both high as kites already. What, exactly, do you plan to do in this mood?

JAKE: I might stay here and ambush every boy who comes by – just to make sure I’ve got the best one.

SCOUT: Waste of time. You do.

JAKE: Yeh, I do. … (Nuzzling HAMILTON:) And the best boyfriend’s parents. And the best friends. … (JAKE turns to SCOUT, grabs the front of his coat with both hands. Locking foreheads, looking into his eyes:) And the best school. … (Softly, haltingly:) Scout, they’re gonna let me come back to Rawley next fall. I can apply to transfer. And we didn’t have to ask … the Dean invited me to. (She starts to cry.)

(SCOUT holds the sobbing girl to his chest with one arm, pulls HAMILTON in and hugs him with the other, finds HAMILTON, too, is sobbing, then finds himself fighting back tears. SCOUT, recovering first, speaks in a low, soft, lover’s voice, punctuated with nuzzles and caresses of both quivering armfuls.)

SCOUT: Ham … whatever your parents are drinking … I’ll take a bottle for mine.

(JAKE laughs, chokes on her tears, manages to wipe her nose. SCOUT kisses her forehead, burrows his nose in her hair.)

JAKE (sniffling, smiling up at Scout): It was dry sherry … decanted … no label. … Sorry.

SCOUT (smiling back, nuzzling): Mmmm … I think what they’ve really been drinking … is what I’m drinking now … you two … pretty heady stuff.

(HAMILTON chokes, sobs less convulsively, but, for the moment, just clings tighter and burrows deeper.)

SCOUT: And now that the bottle’s open … lots of people will scent the bouquet … and want a sip.

JAKE (still sniffling a bit): Not much privacy, huh?

SCOUT: That and more - expectations to live up to.

(JAKE looks into SCOUT’s eyes, holds his gaze, nods. Recovering, she joins SCOUT in working on HAMILTON. She caresses HAMILTON’s cheek, his temple … gets him to open his eyes … to look into hers … to see she’s alright now.)

SCOUT: Ham … the weight that’s been lifted from your shoulders … it’ll be replaced by another, no less heavy … just because you’ve shown you can bear it well. … So remember this evening. … You’ll want it.

(HAMILTON nods, shakes less uncontrollably, breathes less spasmodically.)

JAKE: Maybe that’s why joy hurts. So we won’t forget.

SCOUT: We do forget. But we can help one another remember.

(HAMILTON lifts his head, wipes his face on his sleeve. SCOUT reaches inside his parka and pulls out his impeccably laundered and ironed monogrammed cotton handkerchief, folded for blazer-pocket display. SCOUT offers it to HAMILTON. The elitist anachronism sends HAMILTON into a paroxysm of tear-choked laughter. HAMILTON shakes his head, takes the handkerchief, shakes it open, honks into it.

SCOUT looks at JAKE, his eyes asking whether she can handle this now. JAKE nods, smiles. He grips HAMILTON by the biceps, pulls him up straight.)

SCOUT: Happy Thanksgiving, Ham.

(SCOUT trudges back toward the path, stands leaning against a tree, his back to JAKE and HAMILTON, looking at the girls’ school in the moonlight. He pulls his harmonica out of a pocket and starts to play “ _[Au clair de la lune](http://ingeb.org/songs/auclaird.html)_.”)

 

*       *       *


	20. Scene 17 - Ouvre-moi ta porte

EXT - MULTIPLE LOCATIONS IN NEW RAWLEY, DAY 3 - THURSDAY (NIGHT)

 

While SCOUT plays “[ _Au clair de la lune_](http://ingeb.org/songs/auclaird.html)” through three verses, the camera takes us on a quick tour of the school and the town, covered by three feet of new-fallen snow shimmering in the moonlight. A series of brief shots, Scout’s harmonica playing throughout.

The girls’ school, STEWART kissing BROOKE under the canopy of its carriage entrance …

The boys' school, a few boys trudging back to it …

Its back lawn and gardens, pristinely unshoveled …

The school boathouse, darkened, a young couple sitting on the porch, holding hands, looking out at the lake, now completely frozen over …

The town common, a preppie boy and a townie girl holding hands on the bandstand …

The front of the Inn, light shining from the lobby windows, but still dead …

The main street of town, shops closed, empty save for a couple of cars and a few students walking back to the prep school …

Friendly’s diner, “CLOSED” sign hung on the door …

CHARLIE’s gas station, neon canopy lights and pump globes glowing, the office now lit, an “OPEN” sign again hanging on its door, Bella at the desk, reading and drinking coffee. SEAN and LIZ, in coats and boots, approach from the street and enter. BELLA stands, hugs SEAN, shakes LIZ’s hand, hugs her. …

… and back again to the girls’ school, panning in on the signpost and SCOUT, finishing the third verse of the song.

 

*       *       *


	21. Scene 18 - Ithaca

EXT - RAWLEY GIRLS’, THE SIGNPOST, DAY 3 - THURSDAY (NIGHT)

 

(As SCOUT finishes the third verse of “ _Au clair de la lune_ ,” JAKE and HAMILTON, now recovered and carrying their helmets, join him.)

HAMILTON: _Bien joué. Sache que pour toi la porte reste toujours ouverte_.

JAKE (kissing SCOUT on the cheek): _Et nos cœurs aussi_. … Didn’t know you played.

SCOUT: _Merci bien_. … I brought it from home this term. Will plays Jew’s harp. We jam.

JAKE: That I’d like to hear.

HAMILTON: Maybe. I heard them serenade Dr. Hotchkiss this morning. It got us a drink, but it was kinda harsh.

SCOUT: I thought it was your singing that was harsh. (He imitates HAMILTON’s voice, faltering and cracking:)

          “ _Ubi sunt qui ante nos_  
 _In mundo fuere?_ …”

HAMILTON: It’s not usually played to a jazz beat. … (To JAKE:) I missed Dr. Hotchkiss at dinner. Until you showed up and took the last seat, I assumed he’d be there. … (To SCOUT:) Any idea where he went?

SCOUT: None. But your parents wouldn’t have left him alone.

JAKE: I’m sure he wasn’t. How was dinner at the Banks’?

SCOUT: Utterly amazing. How much did Bella tell you?

JAKE: Just that you’d discussed Dickens. She said to ask you to tell us the rest.

SCOUT: That would take a while. How much time have you got?

JAKE: Not a lot. We’re on our way to the girls’ school to apologize to Lena for how we treated her last summer.

SCOUT (taking JAKE’s hand): Thanks.

JAKE: We’re not doing it for you, lover boy.

SCOUT: I know. Where’s Mark?

HAMILTON: Either at the girl’s school or on his way. Jacqueline wants to start with Lena alone, but if that goes well, she’ll call Mark and me to join her. Meanwhile, if you have time, maybe you, Mark and I might talk in the common room. My dad’s asked me for some advice, I’d appreciate your opinion. And maybe you could tell me about your Thanksgiving dinner, and let me tell Jacqueline?

SCOUT: Sure. I’ve got time. But where’s Anne?

JAKE: At the Inn.

SCOUT: Alone?

JAKE: No. She told me Jennifer will be with her this evening.

(SCOUT looks questioningly at HAMILTON.)

HAMILTON: News to me, too, guy. And apparently Anne and Mark had Thanksgiving dinner at the Inn, which totally sucks.

JAKE: Could be kinda romantic.

SCOUT: Maybe. … (To HAMILTON:) Mark knew from Anne that she and Jake were coming today, obviously.

HAMILTON: Ya think?

(SCOUT and HAMILTON exchange grins.)

JAKE: What?

SCOUT: Mark’s been teasing Ham about Thanksgiving. Let Ham tell you. … So when do Will and I get to meet Anne – without her Homecoming makeover?

JAKE: Come with us and ask Mark.

SCOUT: Sounds like a plan.

HAMILTON (handing SCOUT his helmet): Great. You ride with Jacqueline. I’ll meet you in the girls’ common room.

JAKE (mounting the snowmobile, patting the rear seat): Hop on, Calhoun. This you’re gonna like.

SCOUT (to HAMILTON, mounting the sled and fastening his helmet): Whose life is this, anyhow?

(JAKE and SCOUT drive off. HAMILTON watches them leave. As the noise of the sled fades, he pulls out his mobile phone, opens it, presses a button.)

HAMILTON: Dr. Hotchkiss? … Happy Thanksgiving to you, too, sir. I think I’m safely home. If you’re free Saturday morning, I’d like to introduce Penelope to you.

 

*       *       *


	22. Scene 19 - True, like ice, like fire

INT – COMMON ROOM, RAWLEY GIRLS’ – DAY 3, THURSDAY (NIGHT)

 

(SCOUT, MARK and JAKE, coats and boots gone, stand near the hearth, talking. JAKE is still in drag – blazer, slacks, dress shirt, sweater, tie, loafers. MARK wears a Rawley blazer, open-necked white dress shirt, black sweater-vest, black wool slacks. CHARLIE’s copy of _Little Women_ protrudes slightly from a hip pocket of SCOUT’s blazer.

Around the room, girls and a smaller number of guys, about half of them apparently townies, talk in small groups or couples. Many are still dressed for Thanksgiving dinner, including WENDY and SUSAN, who sit at a small table across the room, talking, and STEWART Prescott and BROOKE Sumner, who stand by a wall near WENDY’s and SUSAN’s table. The camera initially views the scene from behind STEWART and BROOKE, with SCOUT, MARK and JAKE in the background.)

HAMILTON, in his tweed sport jacket, enters from the corridor door, strides up to MARK, clasps MARK’s arms, looks into his eyes, then hugs him intensely. JAKE, watching, smiles at SCOUT. Around the room, eyes roll and conversations turn to whispers.)

BROOKE: So much for the notion that Johnson and Pratt are rivals for Fleming.

STEWART: Yeh. … So what’s left? A gay threesome?

(The camera pans in on HAMILTON, hugging MARK.)

HAMILTON (softly): Thank you. Dr. Hotchkiss loved the dinner. And the story. And Anne.

MARK (disengaging slightly to see HAMILTON’s face): He loves _you_. … Anne and I didn’t overreach?

HAMILTON: No, it’s great. Yesterday morning, I thought Jacqueline and I’d have to tell everything to my parents, to Dr. Hotchkiss, to Lena, and to the whole school. But Will told my parents, you and Anne told Dr. Hotchkiss, and the _Rag_ girls will tell the school. … So now we only have to tell Lena.

MARK: But you and I still have to talk to your parents.

JAKE: Not without Anne and me. … (To HAMILTON:) And I do want to meet Dr. Hotchkiss – in a skirt.

HAMILTON (disengaging from MARK): You will. Saturday morning.

JAKE: Great!

HAMILTON (to MARK): You phoned Anne?

MARK (nodding): Thanks for letting me break the good news to her.

HAMILTON: She’s your girl, guy. … (To JAKE:) So, are you ready to do this?

JAKE: Ready as I’ll ever be.

SCOUT: If you need someone to amuse Lena’s roommate for a few hours, I’d be happy to do that.

HAMILTON: Cynthia? She’s probably doing next term’s coursework.

SCOUT (shrugging): I brought a book. (He pats his blazer pocket.)

HAMILTON: Thanks.

SCOUT: No problem.

HAMILTON (to JAKE): I’ll try to find Lena and ask her to wait in her room for you. (He starts to leave.)

MARK (holding HAMILTON’s arm): Ham, wait.

HAMILTON: What’s wrong?

MARK: Nothing. But I don’t think Lena’s in her room.

HAMILTON: Where is she?

MARK: With the _Rag_ girls. Jan and Wendy were waiting for us when I got here from seeing Dr. Hotchkiss home. They already seemed to know, somehow, that our apology to Lena would be on, even before you phoned to tell me it was. And we’re not alone.

(MARK beckons to SUSAN and WENDY, who rise and approach the group by the hearth.)

WENDY: Hi … (Clearing her throat, looking at JAKE:) … guys.

HAMILTON: Hi, girls.

SCOUT: Happy Thanksgiving.

WENDY: Thanks, Scout, you too. … Susan Pevensie, Jake Pratt. You’ve spoken by phone.

SUSAN (extending her hand, looking JAKE up and down): Very pleased to meet you … Jake. Welcome back to Rawley.

JAKE (shaking SUSAN’s hand, voice lowered): The pleasure’s all mine, Susan.

WENDY: Lena’s in Alice’s and Jan’s suite, with Alice, watching a film …

SCOUT: _Boys Don’t Cry_?

WENDY: Way too heavy. _Some Like It Hot_.

SUSAN: Best suite in the school, Jake. A quad, corner turret, top floor, lake view. Alice and Jan will vacate it for you.

WENDY: And Lena’s roommate might want their room this evening.

HAMILTON: Cindy? You’re kidding.

SUSAN: She’s in the library playing D&D online with a geeky Edmund High freshman.

HAMILTON: How did that happen?

WENDY: You haven't heard what your dad’s been up to?

HAMILTON (with obvious foreboding): No, what?

SUSAN: Every student who wasn’t invited to a faculty home and who’s unattached, as well as some attached in ways the powers that be don’t approve of, seems to have been hosted by the family of a remarkably compatible Edmund student in the same grade and of the opposite gender.

HAMILTON (wincing): Oh no …

SUSAN: Nobody’s complaining. It’s the talk of the campus this evening … (To JAKE:) Although your return has been noted. … (To HAMILTON:) Doesn’t always work out, of course. The dreamy sophomore swimmer to whose family I was sent already has a girlfriend.

JAKE: Sorry.

SUSAN (smiling at WENDY): Probably for the best. … (To HAMILTON:) Mark told us you and he’d stay here in the common room a while. So Jan’s in the kitchen fixing you some tea.

WENDY (to JAKE): And Jan’s and Alice’s suite is yours all night, if you want it. Dot and Nancy are gone, Jan and Alice can stay with Susan and me. No hardship, we’re close.

JAKE: Thanks. This all incredibly kind – and well organized. But Hamilton and I should be back at the Flemings’ by midnight, and Anne’s waiting for Mark at the Inn.

SUSAN: No problem. Ham, when you’re finished with Lena, phone Wendy or me. We’ll make sure Lena’s alright tonight.

WENDY: Especially if this doesn’t go well. Just call us, we’ll deal with it, OK?

HAMILTON: Thanks. I owe you.

WENDY (slipping an arm into JAKE’s): Yes, you do. And we’re about to collect.

JAKE: Are you?

WENDY: Uh - huh. You’re coming to our room to see my thimble collection, boy.

JAKE: I am?

SUSAN (straightening the lapels of JAKE’s blazer): We insist. We’ll wait for Jan there, then the three of us will take you to see Lena. Jan really would not want to miss … (Adjusting JAKE’s necktie:) … this.

HAMILTON (amused): Don’t be shy, boy. I wasn’t.

JAKE (rolling her eyes at HAMILTON): Great.

HAMILTON: Girls, how’d you know we we’d come here to see Lena this evening?

SUSAN: You told Lena yesterday evening that you, Jake and Mark wanted to talk to her when Jake came here, right after you talked with your parents.

HAMILTON: I know, but how did you know it would go well with my parents?

WENDY: Ham, it was obvious, from about two minutes after Jake showed up, that your parents already knew about her, and were thrilled. All through dinner, they teased you two in ways that would have been almost rude if Jake really were your gay boyfriend. Your parents would never do that to a guest, much less one who’s your lover. Ryder, Alice and I got the joke immediately. You didn’t?

HAMILTON (looking at JAKE): Kind of. But we couldn’t really believe it. We just thought it was …

JAKE: Creepy.

WENDY: You believe it now?

HAMILTON: Oh yeh …

WENDY: Good. Happy Thanksgiving. When Jan brings your tea, please tell her where we’ve gone.

(SUSAN slides her arm into JAKE’s free arm. She and WENDY escort JAKE toward the corridor door.)

SUSAN: So, Jake, tell us about the girls at Grottlesex. Are they all like, suicidal pierced goths? Really into black leather?

(JAKE shoots SUSAN a narrow-eyed sidelong glance as she, WENDY and SUSAN exit the common room. SCOUT, HAMILTON and MARK watch them leave. SCOUT sighs.)

MARK: You can’t love all of them, guy. Not even all the kind, beautiful, unloved ones.

SCOUT: I know. But it hurts.

HAMILTON: Tell me about it.

SCOUT: Sorry. … So what does your dad want advice about?

HAMILTON: Seems some alumnus wants to endow a scholarship. And wants Dad to suggest what kind of scholarship might be best.

SCOUT (startled, but recovering quickly): Nice. So?

(JAN enters the room, in blue jeans and a flannel shirt, carrying a tea service for four on a tray. As SCOUT, HAMILTON and MARK talk, she goes to a table for four in a corner of the room, speaks briefly with two girls sitting there, who glance at the three first-year boys, get up, then move to a couch. JAN sets the tray on the table.)

HAMILTON: Dad asked me to think about it and get back to him.

SCOUT: If the donor’s interests aren’t hare-brained, chose a scholarship that advances them.

HAMILTON: I don’t know what they are. Dad says the donor wants to remain anonymous.

SCOUT: Oh. … So what are you thinking?

HAMILTON: I’m stumped. So many possibilities … academic, athletic, minority … how do you choose?

SCOUT: Mark?

MARK: I doubt you can choose objectively.

SCOUT: So do I. Go with your gut.

JAN (approaching from the corner table): HI, Mark, Scout. … (To HAMILTON, kissing him on the cheek:) Hi, photographer.

HAMILTON (kissing JAN back): Hi, boss. How was your Thanksgiving dinner?

JAN: Lovely, thank you. I was hosted by the family of the Edmund school paper’s E.C. – a girl. From what I’ve heard, I gather that implies that my relationship with Fred still has your father’s blessing.

HAMILTON: He is so out of control …

JAN: Pleasantly so, and a cause suggests itself. … Where’s Jake?

MARK: With Susan and Wendy, in their room, waiting for you to take her to your suite.

JAN: Still in drag?

SCOUT: Blazer and tie. Wendy and Susan were smitten.

JAN (rolling her eyes): So was Alice. … There’s tea for you on that table. You’ll be given some privacy.

HAMILTON: Thanks, Jan. For everything.

JAN: Nothing comes for nothing, Fleming. Cough up. What’s going on?

HAMILTON: A lot.

JAN. Obviously. Your parents invited Jake here as a surprise for you. That’s already all over the school. And Alice and Wendy say your parents seem already to have known she’s a girl. And you don’t look like the sky just fell on you, so it went well. But how much does your dad know, how did he find out, and what’s he going to do?

HAMILTON: Jan, I can’t talk about that yet. Sorry.

(JAN, plainly dissatisfied with HAMILTON’s answer, turns to SCOUT and MARK.)

SCOUT: Go easy, please, Jan. Ham’s had a pretty intense evening.

JAN: I can imagine. But Ham, when they see your girlfriend in a skirt, and learn that she usually wears one now, and that your parents already knew that, people will want to know what they were up to, inviting her back here in drag. And Wendy, Susan, Alice and I can’t tell them what we don’t know.

HAMILTON: I know, and I’m still really grateful for your offer to speak for us. But I need to think about how much I can tell you. And we’ve got time. Jake won’t come out until Saturday. She and I’ll spend tomorrow in Boston.

JAN: Eloping?

HAMILTON: Buying Jake some girl clothes to keep here. And just chilling for a day.

JAN: Good idea. Meanwhile, you might want to think about something I didn’t mention yesterday. It would have kinda ruined the mood, and I thought we had more time …

HAMILTON: How and when the _Rag_ will cover this in print and online?

JAN: Yeh. We normally don’t cover students’ love lives, but …

HAMILTON: You have to cover this. And although you might not name Jake, you have to name me, otherwise it’d look like you’re covering up for my dad. Within those limits, how you cover it is between you, my dad, and Scout’s dad. You know all that.

JAN: Yeh, I do.

HAMILTON: So what you want to know from me is when you can propose to my dad whatever options you’re already cooking up. Specifically, you’d like to know when will my dad know everything that you and Scout’s dad already know, right?

JAN (to MARK): Ice and fire, this one.

MARK (smiling at HAMILTON): “Blood that freezes, blood that burns. Earth’s returns …”

HAMILTON (to JAN, after returning MARK’s smile): My dad will know everything by Sunday, before Jake goes back to Grottlesex. But not until Sunday.

JAN (puzzled): So you want the students to hear Saturday everything you said we can tell them – before your parents hear it some of it from you on Sunday?

HAMILTON: Yes.

JAN (looking askance at HAMILTON): Wheels within wheels, schemer. I do hope you know what you’re doing.

HAMILTON: So do I. … (To SCOUT and MARK:) Guys, I’d like a word with Jan. Would you please pour me a cup of tea? I’ll join you soon.

MARK: Sure.

(SCOUT and MARK walk to the table on which Jan has set the tea service. MARK takes the corner seat, from which he can watch HAMILTON and JAN continuing to stand by the hearth, talking. SCOUT takes an adjacent seat.)

SCOUT: So, when do Will and I get to meet Anne … as Anne?

MARK (starting to pour three cups of tea): Lunch at the Inn tomorrow? Noon? Our treat?

SCOUT: Sounds good, thanks. But let Will and me take you out for the afternoon. Whatever there is to do in this town in winter, my roommate will know about.

MARK: Thanks. To my California girl, anything outdoors would probably be new.

SCOUT: Good. And in the evening, why don’t you and Anne take Will and Bella out for that dinner you owe them? And maybe a movie afterwards? Remind Bella of what she’s missing?

MARK (briefly resting a hand on SCOUT’s forearm): You really are a prince. And yes, please tell Will tonight that Anne and I’d like to take Bella and him to dinner tomorrow. Anne already asked Bella, and she agreed. But no movie, Scout.

SCOUT (sipping his tea): Pity. I was sort of hoping I might stand in for Will tomorrow evening – helping Grace with her homework.

MARK (intrigued): Really? Why?

SCOUT: I owe Grace.

MARK: For what?

SCOUT: I’ll tell you when Ham’s back with us.

MARK: Aright. But if it goes well with Lena tonight, don’t you want to take her to _Casablanca_ tomorrow evening?

SCOUT: I think she’ll want a day alone. But I’ll invite her to join me in fleeing the story-telling Saturday.

MARK: Good idea. Lena definitely won’t want to be around for that. Girls will tease her for having been so blind, guys will hit on her for having been so kind.

SCOUT: I was as blind as she was – it’ll be romantic.

MARK: It’ll be romantic because you’re as kind as she is. … But Bella won’t go to a movie with Will, Anne and me while she still doesn’t know for sure whether she’s your half-sister or not. She’s way too scared of what might happen if you and she find out you’re not off-limits for each other.

SCOUT: As of tonight, that issue’s moot, guy.

MARK: Really? … What happened?

SCOUT: I’ll tell you when Ham gets here. But Bella and I are definitely not in love. Grace made that painfully clear to both of us.

MARK: Sorry, Scout.

SCOUT: It’s OK. … Can I ask you something?

MARK: Sure.

SCOUT: Having a twin sister … have you read many chick books?

MARK (sipping tea): More than most guys.

SCOUT: Ever read _Little Women_?

MARK: Two summers ago, on Nantucket, with Liz. Why?

SCOUT: This evening … totally out of nowhere, while we were talking about Dickens … Grace asked Charlie to lend me his copy. … (He pats the book in his blazer pocket.) I’m not sure why. Any clue?

MARK (after a pause): Bella’s little sister suggested you read _Little Women_?

SCOUT: Yeh. You get why?

MARK: Oh yeh.

SCOUT: So tell me.

MARK: No way. Read the book. All the way to the end.

(HAMILTON and JAN begin to amble toward the corner table, still talking.)

SCOUT: You’re sure I’ll get it?

MARK (standing): Definitely.

SCOUT (also standing): OK, thanks.

MARK: And meanwhile, guy, be very, very careful. … Jan, join us, please?

JAN: Thanks, not now. But I’ll be back, with Alice, after I’ve taken Jake to see Lena.

MARK: Great.

JAN: Scout, you like Lena, don’t you?

SCOUT: I do.

JAN: You understand what’s about to happen? Three of your closest friends are going to offer Lena an apology for having spurned her – the only kind of apology for that that means anything.

SCOUT: It needs doing, Jan.

JAN: It does. But you’re going to feel left out, useless, and worried. So when Ham and Mark go to see Lena, Alice and I will walk you back to the boys' school and stay with you till this is over. We can shoot some pool, talk, read, whatever. Sound good?

SCOUT (amazed): Uh, yeh … very. Thanks.

JAN: Our pleasure. Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s a hot guy in Susan’s and Wendy’s room that I’ve been wanting to meet. (She leaves by the door to the corridor.)

SCOUT: Wow. Thanks, Ham.

HAMILTON: Jan’s idea, guy. I wanted to talk with her about something involving Will.

SCOUT (sitting back down): Really?

HAMILTON (taking the seat across from SCOUT): Really. … (To MARK:) So where were we – I mean, about the scholarship?

MARK (also sitting down): Go with your gut.

HAMILTON (taking a sip of tea): Oh, yeh. … (To SCOUT:) How?

SCOUT (shrugging): What scholarship here seems most valuable to you, personally?

HAMILTON: Will’s, of course. The town scholarship. But I’m biased. He’s my friend.

SCOUT (sipping tea): I’m biased, too. But think past that. Is it just Will’s personality that we like, or is it also the access to the town that he gives us?

HAMILTON: Both. But if he weren’t so kind and smart, he wouldn’t give us such good access.

SCOUT: You’re kind and smart, and you’ve lived here all your life, but for giving us access to the town, you’re useless.

HAMILTON: I didn’t go to middle school here. But all the faculty kids are pretty useless. The faculty housing’s all on this side of the lake. It’s a two mile walk around it to town. And we’re in a different public elementary school district.

SCOUT: So if Will were from another town, but otherwise the same guy, he’d be just as useless as you. Unable to introduce us to townie girls, to get us into townie parties, to tell us how to buy booze, or even where to find a decent dry cleaner.

HAMILTON: What, did I spit in your tea or something?

SCOUT (grinning): No. You’re preppy normal. We’re all useless. I can’t find my way around Greenwich without GPS or a map. And obviously, the best thing Will gives us is access to kids who aren’t preps. Kids with houses, live-in parents, back yards, brothers and sisters, dogs and cats, home-cooked meals …

MARK: And cars.

SCOUT: Yes, and cars. … Isn’t that worth way more than an athletic or minority scholarship?

HAMILTON: I think so.

SCOUT: So who benefits from the access to the town that Will offers? Just his close friends?

HAMILTON: No, but we benefit most.

SCOUT (sipping tea): And which students benefit least?

HAMILTON: The girls, obviously.

SCOUT: Right. And not just because they’re in a separate school. Will’s not going to know where to find good knitting yarn. … Now look around you. What don’t you see here at the girl’s school?

HAMILTON: There’s no town scholarship for a girl!

SCOUT: Exactly. The girls usually don’t have the access to the town that we get from having Will at the boys’ school – although they’ve had it today, in spades, and they do seem to appreciate it.

HAMILTON: Yeh, they do. That’s compelling.

SCOUT: I don’t have a better idea.

HAMILTON: Neither do I. Mark?

MARK: I’m a little surprised that your dad didn’t think of it himself.

HAMILTON: I’ll go with that, then. Thanks, Scout.

SCOUT: My pleasure.

MARK (sipping tea): So, what kind of town scholarship? Will’s is basically academic. But a town scholarship could be athletic, or even minority. Do we want another academic one?

HAMILTON (shrugging, clearly not welcoming further complication): New Rawley’s a pretty white town, and how many jockettes at Edmund could pass our entrance exam?

MARK: Good points. And the scholarship would be given to a first-year, and recycled to another first-year when she graduates?

HAMILTON: That’s the way it’s usually done. We take transfers, but we’re a four-year school.

MARK: So … a basically academic scholarship for a freshman girl at Edmund High. How would that play out, Ham? Would your dad ask Edmund’s principal for a short list?

HAMILTON: Him, and maybe the middle school principal.

MARK (setting down his cup): Think we might know any of the names on that list?

(HAMILTON sucks in a breath, tilts his head and narrows his eyes at SCOUT, who stares straight back.)

MARK (taking HAMILTON’s hand): It doesn’t affect the merit of Scout’s argument. I just want you to give him what he wants knowing what you’re doing.

HAMILTON (to MARK, squeezing his hand): Thanks.

MARK (withdrawing his hand): You’d have seen it yourself if you weren’t exhausted, stressed out, and in shock. … When your dad asked for your opinion about this, did he suggest you talk with Scout?

HAMILTON: No, he just said I should feel free to talk with friends. And agreed with me that Scout’d be a good person to talk with.

MARK: You know, your thinking of asking Scout is pretty predictable. So is Scout’s answer, given that he rooms with Will and is dying to bring Bella into our world … as you told Scout’s dad in September.

HAMILTON: So?

MARK: Ham, you really don’t want to know who the donor is. Neither do I. But maybe you guys are both too close to this to see the obvious.

SCOUT: Which is what?

MARK: Maybe you’re both being manipulated – like, by the Dean and our anonymous donor, who could be close friends, and just as good at being kind as their sons are. Maybe they want you guys to feel part of this – ‘cause you already are, but they don’t want to tell you that.

(SCOUT and HAMILTON stare at each other, slowly break into faint smiles, and relax into their chairs.)

MARK: Take the gift, guys. Happy Thanksgiving. … Ham, Scout wants to tell you about his dinner at the Banks’. I’m going to meet some of these townie guys. (He starts to stand.)

SCOUT (grabbing MARK’s hand): Stay. … (Softly:) Where were you three summers ago?

MARK (flattered, smiling faintly, sitting back down): On Nantucket.

SCOUT: Pity. … (Releasing MARK’s hand:) I want you to hear what I tell Ham. Just with him, not before him. We’ll all go meet the townie guys together after Alice and Jan get here, OK?

(MARK nods.)

HAMILTON: And this conversation never happened. Assuming my dad takes my suggestion, everyone, including our girls, is to think that the idea was his. We’ll just say that he decided on it right after the town hosted us for Thanksgiving. Which’ll be true. The only exceptions are that I’ll tell my dad that Scout and I came up with it, and that Scout can tell his dad, if his family is the donor. Agreed?

MARK: Definitely.

(SCOUT nods.)

HAMILTON: But if you do tell your dad, tell him I love him.

SCOUT: If I do, I will.

HAMILTON (after a pause): So, what was the best part of your utterly amazing dinner at the Banks’?

SCOUT (smiling, reaching for his teacup): Grace.

HAMILTON: Who said it?

SCOUT: Funny. The flesh-and-blood Grace.

(One of HAMILTON’s eyebrows arches slightly. He looks at MARK, who nods almost imperceptibly.)

SCOUT: They’re not family, Ham. Grace, by getting Charlie and me to have a talk we should have had last June, made that pretty clear.

HAMILTON: No surprise. We have your dad’s word.

SCOUT: Grace took on her dad because she didn’t want me to lose my mom, like she’d lost hers. And she did it so smoothly, while Bella and I sat there, looking at each other, realizing what our not having been willing to risk having that talk all these months means.

HAMILTON: No surprise there, either, guy.

SCOUT: I know. But I’m almost sorry they’re not family. … (He briefly spaces out. Recovering, reaching for his tea:) Turns out Charlie is a friend of Finn’s. And they’re all readers, not just Bella. … Has either of you read _David Copperfield_?

HAMILTON: Yes. Why?

SCOUT: I haven’t. Tell me what you think of Bella’s take on it. The novel is Copperfield’s atonement …

 

*       *       *


	23. Scene 20 - Hotel work

EXT – NEW RAWLEY INN, DAY 3 – THURSDAY (NIGHT)

 

Establishing shot of the Inn’s front door, its book-and-crowns signboard above it, three diversely colored ears of maize still hanging on the front door. The entrance and the path leading to it are well-lit and well-shoveled.

 

 

INT – NEW RAWLEY INN, LOBBY – DAY 3, THURSDAY (NIGHT)

 

(An old-fashioned small-hotel lobby. The decor is New England Federal, modernized for comfort. The flood is hardwood. The wall hangings are of sailing ships, chiefly whalers and clippers. In the entryway is a mat, next to it an umbrella stand and a coat closet, its half-door open. The registration desk area opposite the door connects with the rest of the lobby by another half-door. Atop its counter, a desk bell, a chained registration book and a fountain pen and inkstand sit prominently. Behind the counter are several dozen numbered pigeonholes, all but four of which have metal room keys inside of them, and a door leading to the desk clerk’s office. Hallways on either side of the registration desk lead to the rest of the Inn. In the center of the room, a large, sturdy rectangular wooden trestle-table, set atop an oval braided throw-rug, bears a cornucopia display of glazed gourds and autumn fruits. A small round table, flanked by two black-painted comb-back chairs with armrests and the book-and-crowns on the headboards, is set in front of each of the windows.

A gas-fueled fire burns in the hearth on the wall to the right of the desk. In front of the hearth is a brown leather couch flanked by two comb-back rockers with armrests, set off with a coffee table and two matching end-tables, all atop a large Persian carpet. Atop the coffee tables sits a tray bearing bowl of assorted nuts, a nutcracker and smaller bowl for cracked nutshells. Next to the hearth is a sideboard bearing dispensers of coffee and hot water, a tray of book-and-crowns-embossed cups, saucers, and teaspoons, and another tray bearing an assortment of tea bags, a bowl of sugar cubes, a rack of packets of artificial sweetener, and thermos pitchers of diverse consistencies of milk and cream. Atop a separate stand near the sideboard is a now-empty tray for soiled cups, saucers and spoons.

ANNE Crompton sits on a stool behind the registration desk counter, reading a textbook, a saucered cup and open laptop at hand. The front door opens. JENNIFER Langtree, in a parka, followed by BRANDON Bradshaw, in a greatcoat, enter, wiping their boots on the doormat.)

ANNE: Hi, Jen. Happy Thanksgiving!

JENNIFER (surprised): Anne! Happy Thanksgiving, indeed. How did you get here, girl?

ANNE: By snowmobile.

JENNIFER (smiling, as BRANDON helps her out of her parka): _Amor omnia vincit_. So where’s …

ANNE (interrupting): Frank? I took the last part of his shift at the desk so he could spend at least some of the evening with his family.

JENNIFER: But you’re a guest.

(BRANDON hangs JENNIFER’s coat and removes his gloves, but keeps his coat and boots on.)

ANNE: One of only four guests here, and the other three are spending the evening with families in town. So I packed your manager off home. Seemed the least I could do after he and your cook kept the dining room open this evening just for me, my boyfriend, and a guest of ours.

JENNIFER (removing her boots): You’re a saint. But you’re relieved. I’m covering the graveyard shift at the desk.

ANNE: So Frank told me. It’s been easy enough.

JENNIFER: I'm glad. But where’s …

ANNE: Jen! What one needs most for hotel work is discretion, don’t you think? You’ve been a model of it. Do keep up the good work.

JENNIFER (nonplussed): Oh … OK. … Thanks for walking me here, Brandon.

BRANDON (taking JENNIFER’s hands): My pleasure, Jen. It’s been a great Thanksgiving.

JENNIFER: It has. Would you like a cup of coffee?

BRANDON: No, thanks. The three cups of it your mom served me will see me home, and then some.

JENNIFER: If you hadn’t wanted so much coffee, you shouldn’t stayed to chat with my mom. Or done the dishes with me. Or played video games with my kid brother. Or watched football with my dad.

BRANDON: I like your folks, Jen. But what I like most about them is that they’re yours.

JENNIFER (playing with the lapels on BRANDON’s greatcoat): So you wouldn’t have done all that if I were a guy, or already had a boyfriend?

BRANDON (laughing): I wish I could say I would have, but the truth is, probably not. And the truth’s kinda beautiful, in its own way, isn’t it? I mean, wanting one person to like you can make you treat everybody better. When you think about it, that’s pretty amazing. Why not give it its due, and be grateful for it?

JENNIFER (caressing BRANDON’s head with one hand): I am, boy. (She pulls him in for a kiss.)

BRANDON (breaking off, nuzzling): So may I see you tomorrow?

JENNIFER: I’d hoped I’d just answered that question.

BRANDON: Beautifully. … Dinner and a movie at my school? The food can’t compare with your family’s, but it won’t be turkey leftovers, and we’re showing and discussing _Casablanca_.

JENNIFER: I’d love to. My favorite movie.

BRANDON: Pretty much everybody’s favorite, isn’t it? I expect we’ll be discussing why. Maybe you could help me understand that better. That, and a lot of things.

JENNIFER (flattered): Really?

BRANDON: Jen, about halfway through dinner it dawned on me why the beautiful girl sitting across from me was unattached. And I checked my guess with your mom later. You’re smarter than any guy in your class at Edmund now that Krudski’s gone, and most guys are intimidated by that. You’re smarter than me, too, Jen.

JENNIFER: But you’re not scared of that?

BRANDON: You’re not so much smarter that I can’t appreciate you, or that you can’t explain things to me. … Jen, I’m a lot bigger and stronger than you are. And a lot richer and better connected socially. Does that scare you?

JENNIFER: Depends on how you use your size, strength, money and connections.

BRANDON: That’s how I feel about your brains. If I think I you’re using them wrong, I’ll tell you. And when you think I’m misusing what I’ve got, you tell me. Deal?

JENNIFER: Mr. Bradshaw, I do believe you’re proposing that we try to love each other.

BRANDON: I’d like to, Jen. But one thing about your brains does scare me.

JENNIFER (deflated): What’s that?

BRANDON: What seems too good to be true usually is. If a really smart guy is what you’d like, Jen, I’d be happy to help you try to find one, and just be your friend. There are lots of guys smarter than me in our class at Rawley. Some of them aren’t taken. If I’m going to lose you to one of them, I’d rather do it without falling for you first.

JENNIFER: Brains aren’t the only thing that matters. I’m not looking for the smartest guy I can find, just one who’s smart enough. And you are, Brandon. Besides, Will’s offered to introduce me to Rawley guys. Your being sent to my family this evening might have something to do with that.

BRANDON: You think so?

JENNIFER: He knows what I like.

BRANDON: I totally missed that. But then, I miss a lot. Especially kindness. I’m not great at it. Maybe ‘cause I miss a lot. But being with a smart, kind girl might help me get smarter and kinder. Like running with the fast, or scrimmaging with the strong.

JENNIFER: I know. That’s part of what I like. You’ll do, Brandon, you really will. But I have to work now. What time is dinner tomorrow?

BRANDON: Six, though they’ll feed us anytime till six-thirty.

JENNIFER: Then come by my house around four-thirty, spend a little time with my family, and we’ll head out after five, OK?

BRANDON: Will do. Goodnight, Jen. (He leans in for another kiss.)

ANNE (clearing her throat): Excuse me, sir, but would you be Mr. Brandon Bradshaw?

BRANDON: Uh … yes. Why?

ANNE: There’s a message for you. From a Mr. Harry Johnson. He asks that you wait here for him, says he’ll be here as soon as he can, probably … (Looking at her watch:) … two or three hours from now.

BRANDON (concerned): Did he say why? Is he alright?

ANNE: He seemed to be fine. Said he wanted to introduce you to someone.

BRANDON (relieved, to JENNIFER): My nutcase roommate. I don’t even know how he knew I’d be here.

(JENNIFER glowers at ANNE.)

ANNE: Did your roommate know you’d have Thanksgiving dinner with Jennifer’s family, Mr. Bradshaw?

BRANDON: Yes, why?

ANNE: Then perhaps he learned from her parents that you were walking her to work, and didn’t want to interrupt that with a cell call.

BRANDON: Oh … yeh, thanks. … (To JENNIFER:) Harry’s a really nice guy, but gay as a fruitcake. He promised to introduce me to some guy he’s been seeing for weeks. Can you deal with that?

JENNIFER (icily, still glowering at ANNE): I’m sure I can.

BRANDON (removing and hanging his coat): Alright, then, I’ll wait for him here. I could phone him, I suppose, but I’d probably be interrupting more than a walk to work. Whoever it is Harry wants me to meet, he hasn’t seen him since last weekend.

JENNIFER: You might be pleasantly surprised.

BRANDON (now in his blazer, removing his boots): So a couple of straight friends who claim to know what Harry’s up to have told me. So what’s to do here while I wait to meet some gay guy that even straight guys find impressive?

JENNIFER: I suppose we might start with introductions. Brandon, this is Anne Crompton, from the bay area in California, a regular guest here. Anne, Brandon Bradshaw, a first-year at Rawley Academy.

BRANDON: Pleased to meet you, Anne.

ANNE (coming out from behind the desk and extending her hand to Brandon): Likewise, Brandon.

BRANDON (shaking ANNE’s hand): I hope you didn’t snowmobile all the way from California.

ANNE (amused): I go to school here in New England. I’m in town to see my boyfriend.

BRANDON: So where is he?

ANNE: He left to see our dinner guest home. But now he’s apologizing to a girl he used to go out with, but wasn’t quite honest with. Along with another girl he’s close to, and who introduced me to him.

BRANDON: Sounds like quite a ladies’ man.

ANNE: Just a really nice guy in a weird situation. He’ll be back here sometime tonight. So you’re not the only one waiting for somebody. There’s plenty to do here. … You look like you work out.

BRANDON: Uh … yeh, I do.

ANNE: The Inn’s spa is top-drawer. Gym, sauna, swimming pool, whirlpool. Would you like to use it?

BRANDON: Sounds great. I have some egg nog and pecan pie to work off. But I don’t have any gym clothes.

ANNE (retreating behind the counter): You don’t need any. Guests can’t enter the spa at night unless we give them a key, and we won’t. (She retrieves a gym key and places it on the counter.)

BRANDON: That OK with you, Jen?

JENNIFER (taking the key and handing it to BRANDON): Definitely. Anne and I need to talk.

BRANDON: You two are, like, friends?

JENNIFER: Closer than I knew, and about to become even closer, I think.

BRANDON: Really?

ANNE (coming back out from behind the counter): The spa’s down the hall, follow the signs, you can’t miss it. If neither your roommate nor my boyfriend is here yet when you’re done there, we can watch a movie on my laptop.

BRANDON (grinning): Sounds good, thanks. (He exits down a corridor into the Inn.)

JENNIFER (heading for the coffee table): So Brandon is Mark’s roommate.

ANNE (taking her cup and saucer, following JENNIFER): Uh - huh.

JENNIFER (starting to make herself a cup of coffee): And Mark, with your knowledge, got Brandon sent to my house for Thanksgiving dinner.

ANNE: With some help and advice from Will Krudski.

JENNIFER: Ah … And you and Mark knew I’d be working the desk tonight.

ANNE: Mark and Will made sure you would be. They rowed across the lake in the blizzard Tuesday night to talk with the guy who works the weeknight graveyard shifts at the desk.

JENNIFER: That’s why Bob asked me to take this shift for him yesterday? Mark paid him to do that?

ANNE: And Will persuaded Bob not to ask questions. If we burn the Inn down tonight, Will’s townie street cred will suffer.

JENNIFER: I have some good friends. And Brandon I’ll take. But Bob’s sweetener, which obviously comes from Mark, I won’t.

ANNE: So take Brandon, Will, Bella, Mark and me to lunch next weekend.

JENNIFER: Done. … But all this is really elaborate. … And obviously not just about Brandon and me.

ANNE (taking a fresh teabag): It’s about a lot more than that.

JENNIFER: Also about Brandon and Mark.

ANNE (refilling her cup with hot water): Yes, although that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

JENNIFER: Because Brandon thinks Mark’s gay?

ANNE: So does almost everybody at their school. I have yet to set foot on campus with him.

JENNIFER: Good god, why?

ANNE (seating herself on the couch, placing her cup and saucer on the coffee table): Long story.

JENNIFER (sitting down next to ANNE): And you’re the person Brandon’s waiting for Mark to introduce him to?

ANNE: Yes. The lying to Brandon ends tonight. To the rest of the school, sometime this weekend.

JENNIFER: I’m glad. I couldn’t get close to a guy while I’m lying to him.

ANNE: That’s why Mark didn’t introduce you to Brandon weeks ago.

JENNIFER: Oh … And Mark’s really off apologizing to an ex-girlfriend … with another girl who introduced you to him?

ANNE: The two girls you saw him here with last summer, but have been discreet enough never to mention to me. He and Jacqueline Pratt are apologizing to Lena Rosenfeld.

JENNIFER: So you know about them.

ANNE: Mark is not a jerk, Jen. He’s with me now, but he’s always tried to love Jackie and Lena as well as he could. And he should – they’re both great girls. Jacqueline’s my roommate at Grottlesex now. She introduced me to Mark.

JENNIFER: So Mark’s apologizing to Lena for dumping her for you?

ANNE: No. He had to leave Lena for Jackie.

JENNIFER: Anne … are you sure your guy’s being honest with you?

ANNE (smiling): Yes. I know you saw Mark here with Jackie before you saw him here with Lena. Mark really is honest, Jen.

JENNIFER: Then why on earth does everyone at his school think he’s gay?

ANNE: Like I said, long story.

JENNIFER: I’m all ears.

 

*       *       * 


	24. Scene 21 - It isn’t the Waldorf

INT – RAWLEY BOYS’, SECOND FLOOR DORMITORY CORRIDOR, DAY 3 - THURSDAY (NIGHT)

 

(WILL, HAMILTON and JAKE approach the closed door to SCOUT’s and WILL’s dorm room, walking and talking quietly. All three wear open parkas. Beneath them, WILL wears his corduroy sport jacket, HAMILTON his tweed sport jacket, JAKE her blazer. WILL and JAKE are open-collared, ties removed, JAKE’s sweater gone; HAMILTON still wears his turtleneck.)

WILL: Yeh, that should work. At least, I can’t see anything wrong with it.

HAMILTON: Thanks, Will. We’ll run with that, then. Any other suggestions?

WILL: Just one. Call Scout’s parents tomorrow to let them know how it went.

HAMILTON: Oh, we will.

JAKE (stopping near the door to WILL’s dorm room): Thank you, for everything. (She kisses WILL affectionately.)

WILL (breaking off, locking foreheads with JAKE): It’s good to have you back.

HAMILTON (hugging WILL and JAKE, nuzzling WILL): Will, you’re the only one who’s known everything these past few days. You’ve pulled it all together for us.

WILL: It’s you and Jacqueline who’ve done it, Ham. I just told your story, or helped you tell it.

JAKE: You told it with love, boy. If you hadn’t, it wouldn’t have done what it has. (She kisses him again, more intensely this time, unbuttoning his shirt.)

WILL (breaking off, nodding toward the door): Would you guys like to come in?

JAKE (looking WILL in the eye, fondling his head): With you and Scout? I’d melt, Will.

WILL: Sorry. So would we.

JAKE (continuing to unbutton WILL’s shirt): But you and I are way behind Hammy and Bella. Or him and you. Or even Bella and me. … Sort of sad.

WILL: It is. … But not behind Bella and me. That’s the problem.

JAKE (unbuttoning WILL’s shirtsleeve cuffs): Yeh. … We’ll work on that.

HAMILTON (pulling WILL’s shirt free): Saturday, when we’re back here.

JAKE (guiding WILL’s hand to the top button of her shirt): With everything we’ve got, Will.

WILL (slowly unbuttoning JAKE’s shirt): Thanks. … You know how much I want that. … And this.

JAKE (caressing WILL’s abdomen): We’ll tell Bella Saturday, with you, what happened with Ham’s parents tonight. All we told her by phone is that it went well. She has no idea how well.

HAMILTON: So don’t tell her tomorrow. And make sure Scout, Mark and Anne don’t either.

WILL: OK. Just … don’t push her.

HAMILTON (nuzzling WILL's neck): We won’t.

WILL (gently opening JAKE’s shirt, then lifting his eyes to hers:) Beautiful. … Where’s the binder?

JAKE: Left it with Lena. Seemed the least I could do.

(WILL grins, pulls JAKE to him. They make out, HAMILTON enfolding them, slowly and tenderly – but only briefly.)

WILL (breaking off): I should go.

JAKE: Yeh. … So should we.

WILL: Welcome back, Jacqueline. “All things that the morning has scattered, the evening brings home.”

JAKE: What’s that?

WILL (buttoning JAKE back up): Sappho … a poem to the evening star … thanking it.  (He digs his keys out of a trouser pocket, kisses first HAMILTON then JAKE affectionately.) … Goodnight. Enjoy Boston.

JAKE: Goodnight, Will.

HAMILTON: Until Saturday, guy.

(WILL unlocks the door to his room, opens it, goes inside, shuts the door behind him.)

 

 

INT – RAWLEY BOYS’, RAWLEY BOYS’, SCOUT’S & WILL’S DORM ROOM, DAY 3 - THURSDAY (NIGHT)

 

(The room is much as it was on the previous evening, lit only by the space heater and lava lamp, the two mattresses pushed together on the floor. A bottle of mineral water and two mugs stand on a tray on the floor near the head of the mattresses. However, Benét's _Western Star_  now lies next to Thoreau's _A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers_  atop WILL's desk. A bottle of Frangelico, rather than cognac, stands on Scout’s desk alongside a snifter and the CD remote. The door to the walk-in closet is slightly ajar.

WILL enters, keys in hand, shirt open beneath jacket and parka, shuts the door. SCOUT, shirtless and in low-cut jeans, half-sits on his desk, reading _Little Women_ , a snifter of Frangelico on the desk beside him. Surveying the room, WILL shoots SCOUT an appreciative but reproachful glance.

SCOUT, smiling softly, bookmarks and closes the book, sets it down on the desk, points the remote at the CD player, punches a button, sets it back down on the desk, picks up the snifter. Joining WILL at the door, he sets the snifter and WILL’s keys on the bookshelf near the door.)

SCOUT: Welcome home, Will. (As a rendition of Leonard Cohen’s [Hallelujah](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WIF4_Sm-rgQ) begins to play softly, SCOUT helps WILL out of his shirt, jacket and parka all at once, drapes them over the back of the club chair, picks up the snifter back up, swirls it under WILL’s nose.)

WILL (raising a hand to touch SCOUT’s on the snifter): Mmmm. … Smells heavenly. What is it?

SCOUT (guiding it to WILL’s lips): Hazelnut liqueur.

WILL: Delicious.

SCOUT: Happy Thanksgiving.

WILL: I thought you were going to reassemble the beds.

SCOUT (setting the snifter on the bookshelf): I changed my mind.

WILL: Scout, we shouldn’t do this.

SCOUT (looking into WILL’s eyes, his hands slowly roaming over WILL’s torso): I ran into Jacqueline and Ham this evening. They were so happy they were in tears, Will. They told me that’s partly your doing.

WILL: Mostly Ham’s parents’ doing.

SCOUT: You’re way too modest … as always. … And you and Bella have a dinner date with Anne and Mark tomorrow.

WILL: Jacqueline told me … but thanks.

SCOUT (softly, into WILL’s ear): And Will, at the Bank’s this evening … we figured out that my dad’s almost certainly not Bella’s.

WILL (grabbing SCOUT’s head): Thank god! Tell me.

SCOUT (turning WILL to face the door, nuzzling him, pressing him backward toward the mattresses): Tomorrow at lunch, with Anne and Mark. And tell all three of us, then, together, what happened at the Flemings’ this evening. Tonight, make love with me.

WILL (eyes shut, reflexively caressing SCOUT’s head): Scout, I want to. You know that. But …

SCOUT: You’re saying no?

WILL: I couldn’t say no to you … not really. But I will try to talk you out of this.

SCOUT (one hand beckoning behind WILL’s back): Will, I’m so happy. Let me share that with you.

(Behind WILL, the door of the walk-in closet opens. JAN Pierce and ALICE Liddell, each wearing only a flannel shirt buttoned only at the bottom, quietly emerge and approach WILL from behind.)

WILL: And I want you to stay happy. … (Opening his eyes, clasping SCOUT’s shoulders:) We need not to do this alone, here at school … especially in this room.

SCOUT: I am not letting you sleep alone tonight.

WILL: Scout … why?

SCOUT: It’s Thanksgiving. I want to give thanks for you … to you … with you. And Ham has asked me to do that for him and Jacqueline, too.

WILL: No way.

SCOUT: Help me, ladies?

ALICE (kissing WILL’s shoulder): Our pleasure.

JAN (hugging WILL from behind): Happy Thanksgiving, Will.

WILL (laughing, pulling the girls in on either side between himself and SCOUT, kissing them): Happy Thanksgiving, Jan … Alice … This is _soooo_ good. I should have known. Jake and Ham are so wicked. … (To SCOUT:) And you’re never weak.

SCOUT (retrieving the snifter): You should talk. That was my best shot.

WILL: Horsecrap. Just three words, “I need you,” is all it would take.

SCOUT: Can’t one need to share joy?

WILL: Stuff it, Calhoun. We don’t need sophistry. We’ve got girls.

SCOUT (nuzzling JAN, lifting the snifter to her lips): Krudski, there may be hope for you yet.

ALICE (to JAN): Ham’s right. They _are_ like Fred and Steve.

JAN (laughing): Yes. This’ll be fun.

WILL (nuzzling ALICE): We aim to please. … But speaking of Fred and Steve …

ALICE: We have their consent for Scout to stand in for Josh tonight.

WILL: Even though they’ve only met Scout once, when he waited on us all at the diner? And even though he’s not committed to a girl he can’t be with?

ALICE: Will, it’s a once-off. They trust Ham’s judgment. And Scout’s working at a diner made an impression.

JAN (grazing SCOUT’s abdomen teasingly): Which is good, ‘cause if a Calhoun at this school weren’t up to snuff, we’d all be obligated to try to fix that, wouldn’t we?

SCOUT (reaching inside JAN’s shirt): I’m a mess. In desperate need of repair every night.

JAN (laughing, removing his hand): We all are, boy. Get us another drink, please.

(SCOUT kisses JAN’s hand, hands WILL the snifter, goes to his desk, pours a second snifter of Frangelico.)

WILL (raising the snifter to ALICE’s lips): So when did Hamilton scheme this up?

JAN: He started talking to us about you and Scout, and St. Martin, while we were carrying the calendars here from the girls’ school, as you and the other girls walked on ahead. Jan and I took the hint.

ALICE: Just before the poetry reading, the three of us phoned Fred and Steve.

WILL (surprised): Yesterday?

JAN: We thought we might be on for last night … until Ham phoned to call it off.

WILL: Oh my god … (To SCOUT:) This was what he had in mind last night?

SCOUT (returning to the group with the second snifter, lifting it to JAN’s lips, wrapping an arm around her): Apparently. But I first learned that this was on only half an hour ago, when Ham called to tell us it had gone well with Lena. Until then, Alice and Jan were reading _Little Women_ to me downstairs.

WILL: Ham didn’t want you starting without me, huh?

ALICE: Funny. If it had gone badly with Lena, Jan and I’d be at the girls’ school, helping Susan and Wendy try to put her back together.

WILL: I know.

SCOUT: Will, you and I don’t have anything on for tomorrow before lunch, do we?

WILL: I’m meeting the Dean at his office at eleven. But other than that, no. Do you girls?

JAN: Nothing all day, except for coursework.

SCOUT (nuzzling and fondling JAN:) Great. Then we have time to do this right. … Am I supposed to think about someone else?

JAN (teasing): Lena, perhaps?

SCOUT: A gentleman never tells.

JAN (serious): Only as much as you want to, Scout.

ALICE: Trying not to think about the person you’re with always hurts, and to do that the first time … that would be cruel. Will, Josh, Jan and I didn’t do that.

SCOUT: And the rest of you?

JAN: It’s a first time for the four of us, Scout. Our guys and Ham want what you and Will feel for each other, and what Alice and I feel for each other, to be part of this.

ALICE: And if we’re any good at this, we’ll all think plenty about the people we love anyhow.

SCOUT: Thanks. I owe Steve and Fred.

JAN: We all owe, Scout. Happy Thanksgiving.

SCOUT: We do. Happy Thanksgiving, Jan. … (He kisses JAN’s forehead, takes WILL’s snifter from him, sets both snifters down on his desk, returns, stands facing JAN. Looking into her eyes:) So lead me, _coloc_. How do these girls like to be loved?

WILL: Scout, I wouldn’t deprive them of the pleasure of letting you learn that for yourself.

SCOUT (flattered): Really?

JAN (placing her hands on SCOUT’s chest): Just be yourself, boy.

(WILL and ALICE pull in next to JAN and SCOUT, nuzzling softly, clearly waiting on SCOUT’s lead.)

SCOUT (leaning in): For Fred, then.

JAN (backing off a bit): That’s yourself?

SCOUT: A Calhoun’s first rule - never forget who you represent, or how lucky you are to do it. And Jan, I’m as sorry that your guys can’t be with you and Alice tonight as I am glad that Will and I can be – for them.

JAN: You really want to deal with my sadness … and Alice’s?

SCOUT: I’ve never stood in for another guy before. What other way is there to do it?

JAN: Any way you’d like, short of hurting us.

SCOUT (lightly brushing JAN’s jawline and ear): Then after we’ve gotten to know each other a little, get under the covers and let Will and me hold Alice and you while you both tell me about your guys – how you got together with them, how it’s gone, what you hope for.

JAN (moved, one hand caressing SCOUT’s head): Really?

SCOUT (leaning in again): I hear it’s quite a story. As you and Alice tell it, Will and I may find ways to express our appreciation.

(JAN closes her eyes as SCOUT holds her head and kisses her. WILL and ALICE watch, exchange smiles, then follow suit.)

 

*       *       *


	25. Scene 22 - The way you look tonight

INT – NEW RAWLEY INN, LOBBY – DAY 3, THURSDAY (NIGHT)

 

(ANNE's textbook is no longer on the registration desk counter. BRANDON’s blazer now hangs in the coat closet next to his greatcoat. BRANDON is seated on the couch in front of the fireplace, his left arm around ANNE, his right around JENNIFER, now nestled into him with a hand inside his half-open shirt. On the coffee table in front of them sit three book-and-crowns-embossed cups in saucers, the nut tray, its smaller bowl now bearing a few cracked nutshells, and ANNE’s laptop, unplugged, running on battery, from which the song, “[The Way You Look Tonight](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EHw93o9NU0w),” plays.

MARK, in black slacks, a half-open dress shirt, and sockless tassel loafers, his hair freshly blown-dry, carrying a half-liter plastic bottle of Coke, enters the lobby from the hallway farther from the hearth.)

MARK (setting the Coke on the registration desk counter): Hi Jen. Hi Brandon, thanks for waiting.

BRANDON (turning, starting to rise): Hi, Harry.

MARK (heading for the coffee stand): Sit, roomie. I don’t see you often enough with a pretty girl on each arm.

BRANDON: Introductions?

MARK (starting to fix himself a cup of tea): Not necessary. Miss Crompton and I are acquainted. The person I’d like you to meet is, like her, a regular guest here at the Inn. Hi, Anne.

ANNE: Hi, Mark.

(BRANDON eases back down into the couch.)

MARK: Whatcha watchin’?

JENNIFER: _My Best Friend’s Wedding_.

ANNE: In which Cameron kills Julia.

MARK (smiling): That’s been said before.

BRANDON: By whom?

MARK: By Scout Calhoun, to Hamilton Fleming and Jake Pratt, at Friendly’s one evening a couple weeks after the summer cotillion.

BRANDON: What, you write down everything said to or by Fleming now?

MARK: No, Will Krudski does that for us.

BRANDON: Funny.

MARK (carrying his teacup and saucer toward the comb-back rocker nearer the coffee stand): Believe it or not, it’s true. … So, Jen, “The Way You Look Tonight” plays more than once in _My Best Friend’s Wedding_. Are you at the riverboat scene?

JENNIFER: No, the wedding reception, at the end.

MARK (settling into the rocker): Oh, good. So what do you think of that film’s use of that song?

JENNIFER: Totally ironic. It turns an old love song into a song about a couple that look right for each other, but aren’t really.

MARK (starting to drink): That song hold any memories for you, Brandon?

BRANDON: Yeh, but not any great ones. It was the last song they played at the summer cotillion … before I left alone.

MARK: Don’t feel too bad, guy. With one exception, none of our cotillion couples worked out.

BRANDON: Like Scout and Paige Bennett?

ANNE: Who’s she?

MARK: A summer session guest student. A façade of femininity masking emasculating assertiveness – exactly the opposite of … never mind. … But she and Scout weren’t our only cotillion couple that didn’t work out, Brandon. Neither did Bella and Sean. Or Will and Caroline. Or Lena and me.

BRANDON (astonished): Lena and you?

JENNIFER: Uh - huh. Lena and Mark were here a lot last summer. How’d that go tonight, Mark?

MARK: Well, thanks. … (Smiling softly at ANNE:) Really well.

BRANDON: You’ve been with Lena this evening?

MARK: Yes.

BRANDON (hopefully): So Lena’s the person you’d like me to meet?

MARK: No. That didn’t last past summer session. My fault, not Lena’s. Our only cotillion couple that has worked out is one in which a guy managed to get past the way his partner looked that night. ‘Cause things often aren’t what they look like. Which is kind of our theme this evening, Brandon.

BRANDON: Which couple is that?

MARK: Hamilton Fleming and Jake Pratt.

BRANDON: Oh great. … So Harry, who’s the person I’ve been waiting here for three hours to meet?

MARK: Jake’s roommate at Grottlesex.

BRANDON (starting to stand): Jen, Anne, excuse us please. Harry and I need to talk about some things you girls would prefer not to hear.

JENNIFER (pulling BRANDON back down): Stay, Brandon. It’s OK. Anne and I both know the person Mark wants you to meet. As Mark said, Pratt’s roommate is a regular guest here.

BRANDON (to ANNE): Really?

ANNE (leaning forward): Stay, it’s cool. (She turns off and closes her laptop, then settles back under BRANDON's arm.)

BRANDON (to MARK, sighing:) Well, I suppose Calhoun and Krudski were right. Better a gay foursome than a gay threesome. And at least you tried with a girl last summer. So where is your lover?

MARK: Here at the Inn.

BRANDON: Yeh, I noticed you didn’t come in the front door. And you’ve obviously just showered. In your squeeze’s room here?

MARK (looking at ANNE): Seemed the least I could do, under the circumstances.

BRANDON: Thank you. And he’ll come down shortly?

MARK (setting his cup and saucer down on the table): No, the person you’ve been waiting to meet is already here.

BRANDON (turning to look around): Where?

MARK: Under your left arm, roomie. Thanks for looking after my girlfriend this evening.

BRANDON: Anne?

ANNE: The same. Mark and I are both really sorry we’ve had to mislead you. (She kisses BRANDON.)

BRANDON (breaking off): You cannot be rooming with Jake Pratt.

ANNE: Yes and no, Brandon. Long story.

BRANDON: Would someone tell it to me, please?

ANNE (standing, pulling BRANDON up with her): There’s someone here who’d like to do that.

BRANDON: Who?

JENNIFER (standing): I would, Brandon. And Mark, we’re on, thanks.

MARK: Great. (He stands, picks up Anne's laptop.)

BRANDON: You’re in on this, Jen?

JENNIFER: From the beginning – although only tonight, while you were in the gym, did I learn from Anne that almost nobody else knows what I’ve known all along.

MARK (walking toward the registration desk counter): But Jenny will need a suitable place to tell that story to you, Brandon.

ANNE (pulling BRANDON to the counter): So if you’d like to hear it … (Taking the pen out of the inkstand and offering it to BRANDON:) … sign the book.

BRANDON: A room?

MARK: On me, Brandon. For tonight and tomorrow night. With my sincere thanks for putting up with everything I’ve put you through. And with Anne’s and my best wishes for you and Jen.

BRANDON (to MARK): So my being sent to the Langtrees’ for Thanksgiving dinner was your doing?

MARK (setting his tea and ANNE's laptop on the desk counter near the Coke bottle): And Will’s. But Jen wasn’t in on that.

BRANDON: Jen?

JENNIFER (wrapping an arm around BRANDON’s waist): Sign, boy.

BRANDON: Are you sure?

JENNIFER: We can take this as slow as we want, Brandon. But I’m sure that I’d like you to hold me tonight while I tell you this story.

(BRANDON signs the registration book, returns the pen to the inkstand. Meanwhile, ANNE goes behind the counter, takes a room key out of a pigeonhole, and places it on the counter.)

BRANDON (taking the key, to MARK): So Harry … you really like me … enough to do all this for me … and you’ve never let me see that because, for some bizarre reason that Jen’s about to tell me, you’ve been pretending to be gay, and it would have made me feel weird?

MARK: That’s pretty much it, Brandon. I’m truly sorry. But the people close to me call me Mark now. You too, please?

BRANDON (pulling MARK into a hug with him and JENNIFER): Thanks, Mark.

MARK: You’re welcome. Go with Jen. This feels great, but you can hug me any night.

BRANDON (laughing, disengaging from MARK): OK.

JENNIFER (to BRANDON): Shall we?

BRANDON: Sure.

JENNIFER: Anne, Mark, thanks for this. I’ll be back down in a couple hours to take the rest of my shift.

ANNE: You’ll do no such thing, girl. Mark and I’ll ring you up at five-fifteen, so you and Brandon can shower and get down here before your relief arrives. Mark and I’ll take turns napping on the cot in the desk clerk’s office.

MARK: And tomorrow morning, Anne and I can sleep till almost noon. But first, before Brandon walks you home, we’ll have our first hug as two couples. And Brandon, you will want to be in on this one.

BRANDON (laughing): I don’t doubt it. Goodnight Anne, Mark. And thanks again.

ANNE: Our pleasure. Goodnight.

(BRANDON and JENNIFER leave by the hallway nearer the hearth, clearing the empty cups from the coffee table on their way out.)

MARK (to ANNE, going behind the desk counter, holding her): Thanks. That felt really good.

ANNE: Yeh, it did. … So did dinner with Dr. Hotchkiss. Ham’s so lucky to have him.

MARK: We all are. … (Looking around:) Where are the chocolates he brought us? I didn’t see them in your room.

ANNE: In Brandon’s room, with the Madeira.

MARK: God, you’re perfect. (He kisses ANNE intensely. Breaking off, he holds her tightly.)

ANNE: You OK, boy?

MARK (nodding): I will be. Just hold me.

ANNE: Lena?

MARK: Yeh. … It was beautiful, and it worked – we left Lena way better than we found her. But it was a new level of weirdness even for us.

ANNE: Mark, you had to do it. I told you that Columbus Day weekend.

MARK: I know. … (Disengaging:) Lena sent you a gift … and a message. (He moves his teacup from its saucer to the desk behind the counter, pulls a small, flat incense candle out of a pocket, and sets it on the saucer atop the desk counter.)

ANNE: A candle?

MARK (lighting the candle with one of a boxful of book-and-crowns-embossed matchbooks behind the counter): When I told Lena you were working the desk here, she gave me this, and told me to put it on the counter for you. (He slides the saucer close to the registration book and desk bell.)

ANNE: I don’t get it.

MARK: You will. (Holding ANNE from behind, he points first to the desk bell, then to the registration book, then to the candle.)

ANNE (after a pause, amused): Oh … “[Bell, Book and Candle](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bell,_book,_and_candle).” The [movie](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bell,_Book_and_Candle) Lena, Jackie and Ham saw at the drive-in last summer. … So what’s the message?

MARK: Lena says thank you. But that when you send me to the communion rail, you shouldn’t stay in the pews. Especially not to celebrate that a girl we all love has stopped excommunicating herself.

ANNE (softly): Through the film to the old rite. She’s deep. … (Turning her head back toward MARK's:) She really wishes I’d been there?

MARK (nodding): Despite everything, we keep underestimating her. She wants to meet you this weekend. None of us will feel quite right till that happens.

ANNE (caressing his enfolding arms): We’ll find time, Mark. … Did you see Liz?

MARK: No, she and Sean stayed late at Bella’s. But I phoned her. We’re on for Saturday afternoon.

ANNE: Will that be soon enough?

MARK: Yes. Jackie and Ham won’t be here tomorrow.

ANNE: But you said on the phone that it went well with Ham’s parents.

MARK: It did. He and Jackie will be in Boston tomorrow, buying Jackie girl clothes – a gift from Ham’s mom.

ANNE (disengaging, turning to face MARK): Oh my god … It went that well?

MARK: Evidently.

ANNE: So tell me.

MARK (moving the laptop and Coke into the desk clerk's office): Jackie, Ham and I all think you should hear it from someone who was there.

ANNE: So I have to wait till Saturday?

MARK (from inside the office): No, we'll hear it tomorrow, from Will. Scout will bring him here for lunch.

ANNE: Will was at the Flemings’ this evening?

MARK: Showed up just as dinner was ending. … (Re-emerging:) And he knows more than Jackie or Ham.

ANNE: No … How?

MARK (lifting ANNE up): I’ll tell you on the cot in the office. That, and more.

ANNE: No way!

MARK (carrying her into the office): It’s too good to tell any other way, girl.

ANNE: Mark!

MARK: If the desk bell rings, I’ll get it. You, however …

(He kicks the door shut behind them. From inside the office, as the camera pans out into the lobby, comes a seven-note refrain of "Just the way you look tonight.")

 

 END OF ACT III

[For ACT IV, click here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1438438/chapters/3025471).

 

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